Time Warp
by megglesnake
Summary: An AU version of DA events. The year is 2009 and Ferelden is faced with a blight. Can modern tech help Major Jessica Cousland and her scooby gang stop the archdemon before the world is destroyed? Rated M for violence.
1. Prologue

**A/N: I'M MULTITASKING! Well...sorta. I'm letting RC go for the time being. But I was challenged by Jinx1983 to write my very first AU fic. Being one to never back down from a challenge (within reason), I accepted. **

**There is a reason this is rated M. Violence. It's the one thing I'm confident in writing. So there will be a lot of it. Don't worry my darling smut monkeys...You'll have your dirty monkey love too. **

**I was like to thank Jinx1983 for not only coming up with this challenge, but for reading and correcting. I'd also like to thank Randomwittering for editing, Isabella Monroe for helping me come up with a title and reading this over, and alyssacousland. **

**Thanks to all of you for reading this first AU fic of mine! **

**XXXxxxXXX **

**Lothering, Ferelden**

November 5th, 2007  
9:00 am

The Lothering Chantry bells rang throughout the village as they did before the start of every morning service. The villagers hurried inside the small building, which was already filled to maximum capacity. Even though it was a fire code violation, the Templars let it slide. ****

Over the past few weeks Chantry attendance had nearly doubled from what it had been in the past. For nearly six months now the national paper; The Ferelden Yowler, had been printing reports of people in nearly every neighboring town and city who had been being attacked and killed by grotesque looking monsters. At first the stories had been widely passed off as merely a scare tactic started by the nobility of Ferelden in order to keep common people in line. The public's opinion began to change when reports of these incidents became more frequent. ****

While nearly all of Lothering begged the Maker for protection and forgiveness, three young boys peddled as fast as they could out of town. It was too beautiful of a morning to spend in an over crowded room. More than that, it was a desperate attempt to get out of attending the usual boring morning service. ****

"I'm sure my mum is going to be furious with me." Said Ty, the youngest of the three boys. "She might even kill me." ****

"Stop being so damn dramatic. I'm sure they'll get over it." Len scoffed as he rolled his eyes. "We'll recite a verse from whatever chant they choose like we always do." ****

"Hurry it up arseholes!" Colin yelled over his shoulder. As the oldest of the three he took it upon himself to order his two best friends around. They usually ignored his demands yet, it never stopped Colin from trying. ****

"Where are we going?" Ty yelled. Looking back over his shoulder, Colin's sly grin sent shivers down the other boy's spines. ****

"The Wilds." ****

"No." Ty and Len said as one. ****

"You two don't actually believe what the say on the news do you?" Colin asked. Glancing over his shoulder he saw his two "brave" best friends nod vigorously. Snorting in disgust Colin turned his attention back to the path ahead of them. "Seriously? You two believe big scary monsters are going to eat you?" ****

"It's on the bloody news!" Len's voice squeaked with excitement. ****

Growing tired of this conversation, Colin sighed dramatically and shook his head. "Fine. I'll go by myself." ****

Len and Ty exchanged worried glances, before they groaned in unison. They knew what Colin was doing. Sadly, it always worked.****

Colin said not a word as they approached the outskirts of the Wilds. All three boys stopped their bikes, carefully getting off and setting them to the ground. ****

"Well...now what genius?" Len asked as he and Ty came up beside Colin. Standing up a bit straighter and with a determined twinkle in his eyes. ****

Colin did not take his eyes off of the over grown swamp land before him as he spoke. "We walk around for a bit, find the witch of the Wilds if she even exists. We'll be home by dinner." Colin said with confidence. Inwardly he was a nervous wreck. He never thought the Wilds would be so...creepy looking. But he had set out a task for himself, being one never to turn his back on a challenge Colin inhaled deeply before taking off down the dirt path before him. Wordlessly and reluctantly Len and Ty followed. Both on their guard and alert to their surroundings.****

The scent of the wilds was not half as bad as they expected, or heard from the other kids at school. The unmistakable musky scent of moss hung in the air, as it hung on nearly everything in site. Trees, rocks, the small bodies of water, old dilapidated buildings that had to be as old as the dirt beneath their feet, and, oddly enough, a faint scent of beef. This told them the Witch of the wilds was somewhere near here, and that they were at least heading in the right direction. ****

They wandered until they reached a large cliff, over looking a crumbled, dome shaped building. All three dropped to the ground, exhausted after what felt like hours of pointless wandering and finding nothing but swamp. Ty dared to look down at his watch and grimaced.****

"Holy fuck-a-doodle! We've been out here for three bloody hours." Ty whined. ****

"And all we have to show for it are the sores on our feet." Len muttered as he cast an accusing side glance at Colin. "I still don't know why we had to leave our bikes behind." ****

"Because this is a damn swamp you stupid arse." ****

"Screw you." Len said as he pushed himself off the ground. Lifting his hands over his head as he stretched out every sore muscle in his body. ****

There was a low rumbling in the distance. All three boys felt it. With his hands still over his head, Len slowly turned his head to his right and glanced over his shoulder. At first he thought what he saw was an illusion due to heat stroke. When he saw the army moving closer he paled and slowly dropped his hands to his sides. His knees buckled beneath him. He fell to the ground; landing on Colin's hand. The older boy yelped in pain. ****

"Hey! What the hell man!" Colin exclaimed loudly. ****

"Shut your Maker damned mouth!" Len hissed back. Now both of his friends were look at him as if he had grown a giant zit in the middle of his forehead. He brought up his shaking hand; pointing in the direction of the rumbling sound. Now all three boy's paled, as they watched the seemingly endless army of monsters march towards a Chasind village.****

"Good Maker!" Colin breathed. "There is no end to them." ****

"Oh no. Mother was right. There are monsters." Ty said as he started to sob quietly. ****

"We have to get out of here and warn the village." Colin's said. His voice shaking. No one argued. All three boys began pushing themselves off the ground when they heard the low and vicious rumbling growl coming from behind them. ****

Slowly, in unison, the three boys turned around. There before them stood a tall towering monster with the biggest ax the boys had ever seen. That in itself was enough to send all three boys into a fit of screams. It's hideous face looked as if it had been shoved in to a deep fryer. It's emotionless eyes and huge grin was enough to scare even the bravest of men. ****

"Darkspawn!" All three boys screamed as they turned to run. But the Hurlock was faster. With one mighty swoop, he swung his ax across all three boy's necks. The Hurlock roared proudly as the boy's headless bodies slumped to the ground. ****

It was hardly a beginning to the terror the Darkspawn would unleash, but it was the start of a terrible downwards spiral for Lothering and all of it's residents. ****

xxxXxxx****

Denerim back alley

November 28th 2007

1:30 PM

Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir tore his eyes away from the entrance of the alley way in order to checked his watch again."He's late." He whispered heatedly to himself. He began to pace nervously. Maybe this was a set-up? Perhaps the King knew of his plans. Many unappealing thoughts ran through the Teyrn's mind. ****

Just then a figure appeared at the end of the alleyway, quickly walking towards him. Loghain knew by the walk it was Arl Rendon Howe. The two men had know of each other before now, but had not bothered with each other beyond pleasantries. Having met and spoke at great length during one of the many tedious Landsmeets, Loghain found they had more in common than he ever could have imagined. Surprisingly really, since he always assumed Howe was a bloody coward. Apparently looks really can be deceiving. ****

The men shook hands. "I must apologize for my late arrival. " Rendon said, but did not elaborate. Instead he reached into his inner breast pocket; pulling out a stack of letters. "I was able to intercept his King's correspon..." He trailed as Loghain violently snatched the letters from his hands. He looked over them carefully. "Is it as you suspected?" ****

Looking up from the letters, he nodded at the Arl. "He's asked Orlais for their assistance." He scoffed. "Damned fool actually believes the Grey Warden brigade's claims that a blight is upon us." There was no humor behind his chuckling only bitter animosity.****

Flipping through the letters Loghain came across a letter he had been fully expecting, but still filled him with a rage stronger than anything he'd felt before. The love letter was in Cailan's hand. The fool proclaimed his undying love for Celene and her only. He knew Cailan did not truly love his daughter Anora, nor did she truly love him, but he had assumed there was a mutual respect involved. Anora would never begin an affair. Much less an affair with an enemy of Ferelden. His blood boiled not only as a father, but as a son of Ferelden. He wanted to take a knife and carve out the King's heart. ****

"Are you alright?" Arl Howe's voice broke through the haze of anger which clouded Loghain's mind. The Teyrn nodded shortly. His path was now clear, he needed to save Ferelden not only from the small Darkspawn threat, but from it's King, from itself. ****

A sudden thought occurred to the Teyrn. "This Darkspawn business might help us more than it does hurt us." Loghain said thoughtfully. ****

"I wasn't aware Darkspawn were helpful to anyone other than themselves." Howe said. ****

"Think about it for a moment." Loghain said as he paced the length of the narrowed alleyway. He was excited. Finally a plan was forming. "If the King, the nobles and their armies are preoccupied with this so called blight, would that not be a perfect distraction. You and I could make make the people aware of the real danger. Doubts would arise, a king's rule in doubt."****

Howe's left brow shot up. What a curious plan. He liked the way this man thought. "But surely some of the nobles will have a problem with this plan." ****

Now it was Loghain's turn to give the Arl a look of pure curiosity. "Would you by chance be holding out hope that Bryce Cousland will stand against us?" ****

The mere mention of that bastard sent the Arl's lip into a twitching snarl. Just because he was popular amongst all of the Highlands. He saw Rendon as a pet to order about when he so pleased. He was done taking orders from that holier than thou man! "I know he will." A pleased smile spread across the Arl's lips. ****

"We kill anyone and everyone who comes between us and our plan." The two men shook on their resolve. "We need not rush the planning stage. I believe we have time before we are forced to act." ****

"Like snakes hiding in the grass?" Rendon offered with a grin. Loghain merely nodded. ****

"Yes. Exactly."****

"What will you do about the letters?" Rendon asked fully expecting no response. He was surprised when Loghain smirked.****

"Celene's handwriting is sloppy and will be easy to duplicate. I'll simply inform him that the Orlesian Wardens have far too many problems of their own to attend to, and will not be able to help him at this time."**  
**Rendon joined Loghain in his devious smirk. "I never believed a straight arrow like you would be capable of such..."****

"Finish that sentence and I'll cut out your tongue." Loghain spat. Rendon automatically recoiled as if he had just been backhanded by the man.****

"Sorry." He stated impishly.****

"I'm doing this because I know what is best for Ferelden and it's people. The King has lost his way. This needs to be handled before past mistakes repeat themselves again."****

"Truly you are a hero to Ferelden and it's people." Rendon inwardly cringed."_Good Maker! If I'm not kissing one arse, it's another!"_****

Thankfully his statement went completely unnoticed by Loghain.****

"We should set at least a week aside every month to meet."****

"Of course. Since no one knows of this alley we will meet here for the time being." Rendon said. Proud to have shown some sign of dominance.****

Loghain nodded in agreement. "Tomorrow then?"****

Rendon nodded. "Tomorrow." He took Loghain's hand, shaking it proudly.****

"To the glory of Ferelden" Loghain said proudly.****

Rendon nodded. "May we protect and serve her well."****

The two parted ways. Each smiling broadly as each man believed they were doing what was best for Ferelden and it's people. How very wrong they were.


	2. Cailan & Duncan

**A/N: Since this is a challenge fic I decided to go with a perspective that would indeed challenge me. Writing in first person is rather...difficult. Writing in first person with MANY pov's is even harder. That being said, everything from here on out is from a first person perspective. Instead of giving chapters witty names, I'll be using the names of the characters who's pov I'll be using. **

**I will be sticking fairly close to the lore set by the game. My brain would do the overloading thing if I didn't. **

**A huge thanks to Jinx1983 for reading this bad boy over, correcting my mistakes and making this sucker somewhat readable. YAY FOR JINX! (Her fic "World spins madly on" It's sweet, funny, and just a wonderful read). And to all of you who favorite, review and take the time out of your .**

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**Royal Palace, Denerim**

**January 28th 2009**

**12:00 pm**

**Cailan:**

As I watched sixteen of Ferelden's most important nobles screaming over one another just to be heard, I realized that war meetings are very much like landsmeets. Only I get to sit in a far more comfortable chair and a square table. I'm fairly sure the purpose of the table is so angry and frustrated men and women can pound their fists.

At first it was amusing. Now the pounding of fists mixed with the bickering was giving me a massive headache. I had let them bitch and bicker long enough.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Please calm yourselves." I yelled. The room immediately fell silent. Finally! "I am afraid I must disagree with those of you who believe the darkspawn aren't a threat." I looked between Bann Perrin and Bann Esmerelle who were currently two of the biggest pains in my arse. "Every single one of us in this room have seen first hand the pain and suffering these beasts bring to our people. They need to be stopped now before these incidents are beyond our control." I say.

I am eager to take up a weapon and beat the ever living shit out of these monsters. I doubt the situation is as dire as the Grey Warden Brigade make it out to be, but I still don't like the thought of these darkspawn running rampant and killing my people. Finally, after eight years of boredom, I'll be able to give scholars sometime to write about.

"Your Majesty." Bann Perrin started. "We have more serious problems to contend with."

"Such as?" Asked Bann Teagan.

Perrin snapped his head towards Teagan. A fierce anger in his eyes and reddened face. "Failing crops for one."

"This is true." Teagan agreed. "And I'm sure the darkspawn horde trampling through crop fields has not a damn thing to do with THAT problem."

As amused as I am at my Uncle's statement I know this will only bring more arguing. My head already feels as if it's going to explode. Best to nip this in the bud before it turns into yet another screaming match. My other uncle beats me to the punch.

"While your fears of starvation are well founded Bann Perrin and you as well Bann Esmerelle." Eamon Nodded in the direction of both Banns. "I must say, I am in agreement with everyone else here. The darkspawn must be dealt with now before things become dire." Arl Eamon spoke in his usual soft yet demanding tone.

"Agreed." I said. I looked at Teyrn Loghain and Cousland, each nodding their approval. Since I respect them both it was all the approval I needed. "Then we should make plans to leave for Ostagar at once." A sense of pride rose within me. Finally. I would be able to take up my father's sword and use it as he did: Protecting Ferelden. On second thought, perhaps it would just be easier if I just use a gun or something.

"We? Certainly you aren't thinking of leaving with your army are you?" Eamon exclaimed. Oh Maker. Here we go again. This over protective business is starting to get old.

"Of course I am. Fighting along side armies is what a king does isn't it? It's what my father would do. That's the idea you and everyone else have been beating into my head over the last eight years."

"It is." Eamon sighed in defeat. At least my uncle knew how to pick his battles.

"There have been reports from both the Wardens and Lothering of a rather sizable group of darkspawn hiding within the Korcari Wilds." Loghain's authoritative voice boomed throughout the room. Making all but Teagan and myself jump in their chairs. HA! Loghain pulled out a map. Maker only knows where the hell he was keeping the blasted thing. The man always has a map or a plan. "There is a deserted fortress near the edge of the Wilds."

"You mean the dilapidated fortress." Eamon corrected.

Loghain did his scary glare thing in Eamon's direction. Not one to be intimidated my uncle simply stared back blankly. "Yes. But it may still hold up enough to be useful. Most of the walls still stand; those that don't can be restructured within a matter of days." Loghain smirked. At least I think it was a smirk. If it was, it's the scariest damn smirk I've ever seen. "Amazingly, The tower of Ishal still stands. This will allow us a bird's eye view across the wilds, and allow us to know where the darkspawn are and will be heading."

"Very true." Eamon muttered.

When no one spoke out against this plan, I nodded in agreement. "It's settled then." I said and stood from my chair. The nobles did the same. "Loghain and I will lead my army to Ostagar. I will send word to each of you once we have assessed the situation."

I purposely left out the fact that I had already sent off a letter of assistance to the Orlesian empire. They would be a most powerful ally. None of the people in this room would see it that way. Most of these men and women are still bitter towards Orlais and had been dead set against negotiations with them. Loghain had been more outspoken against negotiations than anyone. Somehow I managed to sway him. For now I thought it best to keep this to myself. For now.

"Majesty." They all said in unison as Loghain and I left the room.

I nearly broke out into a run so my uncle Eamon could not catch up to me. "Majesty." Loghain began. "Are you sure you want to accompany us to Ostagar?"

Anger boiled within the depths of stomach. I already knew exactly what the man thought of me. I am nothing like my father. I'm too headstrong, erratic. Blah, blah, blah. Good! I hope I'm nothing like my father. At least I have the presence of mind not to leave a country because it's "not my thing this week." His goofy words, not mine. Arse.

"I'm sure." I said with a smile. "In fact. I believe I'm going to write a letter to Duncan before I leave, asking for his brigade's assistance." Out of the corner of my eye I saw Loghain's nostril's flare. His reaction pleases me to no end. But I do my best to hide my satisfied smile. I'm fairly sure I'm failing miserably at this task.

"We don't need their assistance in exterminating a few darkspawn." He argued. As I expected he would.

"We need all the help we can get. Who knows darkspawn better than the Grey Wardens?" I was rather surprised Loghain had no retort. Instead he bowed and turned on his heels. I pushed open the door to my royal chambers.

Knowing the commander of the Grey was an old fashioned sort, I skipped flipping on my laptop and instead went for my stack of blank paper sheets and a pen. I sat down at my desk and composed a letter asking for his Warden's assistance. I knew he would not refuse.

My hand is cramped and my head still hurts like a bitch (which makes writing a letter no easy task). But, I manage to finish the letter. I find my messenger just as he passes outside my room, I send the blasted thing on it's way. Duncan sent word several days ago of his being in Denerim. Let us hope he is still here.

For now I must ignore my growing headache. I have an army to gather. How exciting! 

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****

xxxXXXxxx

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The market district, Denerim

**January 28th 2009**

**3:00 pm**

**Duncan: **

The Market district was a welcomes sight, and thus far only three people have tried to rob me blind. My lowest record yet. I'll never understand what makes people believe I'm an easy mark. Apparently; it doesn't take a thief to know one.

I've recruited one of the young men who attempted to rob me. Daveth. I believe, will make a fine Warden. He was rather surprised (as were the guards), with my decision at first. However; my choice to make him a Warden saved him from a rather lengthy jail sentence. It was a sentence he was more than willing to forgo. I see myself in him, which is why I recruited him. Even thieves deserve a second chance at redeeming themselves. His morals are a bit skewed at the moment; that will soon change with time.

I look over my shoulder at him. The scamp is looking over his own shoulder. No doubt expecting a city guard to come and arrest him at any given moment. I could reassure him it wont happen. But I don't, as nothing I will say will ease his mind. The paranoia will pass soon.

First order of business while we're here is to find Daveth something a little more suitable in the weapon department. Not that anything is wrong with fast legs, fingers and wit. But they'll have no use against darkspawn. It was a pleasant surprise to see Daveth choose a fine bow and arrow set.

Once the weapon situation was rectified, we set out for the front gates.

"Were we goin'?" He asked. In a nervous whisper.

Smirking, I answered. "We're going to make a quick stop by the slums."

"Wardens recruit elves too?"

"Of course. We can recruit nearly anyone in a time of need."

"We're in a time of need ain't we?" He said. Followed by a heavy sigh. "Those reports I see on the telly. They're all true ain't they?"

"Yes." I say simply. There is no need to elaborate.

I haven't paid the news any mind, but I'm sure they are diluting facts so not to worry the population. All they hear are the reports received from the Tevinter battle fields, where they are fighting back darkspawn raids all the time. I'm almost positive those details are convoluted as well. I can see why the king wouldn't want word of a possible blight to be released to the public. Mass hysteria at this point would hardly be helpful, but on the other hand people have a right to know.

"Shit." Daveth hisses.

"Would you rather be in a prison cell?"

"Fuck no." He sneered. "If I'm going to be offed I'd much prefer darkspawn do the job rather than the bloody guards."

I chuckle. I don't have the heart to tell him the darkspawn might not be what does him in. To be young and enthusiastic. Most days I miss it. Lately I've been missing it even more than usual. I can feel the darkspawn calling to me every time I close my eyes, every time I sleep, or rest. I know why they call. I've been ignoring it for at least a month an a half now. As I, like anyone else, am not anxious to die. Not to say I fear death itself. It's the actual act of dying that scares me. After this blight is over and done with, I know what needs to be done. I dread doing it, but it can hardly be helped.

Then, just as the two of us were preparing to exit the Market District, a messenger came up to me and handed me a note. The Royal stamp upon the first was a dead give away. At least his majesty didn't email me this time. I try my best to stay away from that blasted thing. Too many companies are concerned about my potential E.D. I' much prefer letter writing. Very little spam involved in that respect.

The messenger waits as I open and read the letter. So the nobles are willing to admit that the darkspawn are a threat now? Better late than never I suppose. The choice of setting up base in Ostagar is a rather interesting decision. I agree it is a rather fitting location, but plenty will have to be done to the old fortress in order to prepare it for a full out war. I turn to the messenger and nod.

"Tell his Majesty I will be there once I am finished." The messenger gave me a curious look. "He'll know what it means." I assure him. The messenger nods, and which ran back in the direction in which he came.

I turn to Daveth. "Slums. Then Ostagar. I am sending you with the army to Ostagar where you will meet with the rest of the Wardens." He raised a curious brow. I chuckled as I answered. "There is never a dull moment amongst the Wardens."

"Good." He smirked. "I was afraid he'd be sittin' on our arses and knitting sweaters all day." He said laughing as we entered the elven slums.

******

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xxxXXXxxx

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Royal Palace

**February 2nd**

**9:00 am **

**Cailan:**

I shoo away the servant boy as I pack my bags. It's a long process but I'm excited to be doing it. Finally! After days of waiting, There will be Some action!

"You should let him help." Anora mumbles from across the room.

It's rare for her to accompany me... well pretty much anywhere that isn't out in public. It's a rather pleasant surprise when she offered to come with me. We don't spend as much time together as we used too. She attends to the daily court matters, and I am left to do most of the tedious traveling.

I roll my eyes and shake my head. "I am perfectly able to pack my own things." I assure her.

"Would I be wasting my breath if I asked you not to do anything overly dramatic or reckless?" She asks dully. I raise a curious brow. How rude.

I shrug. "All signs point to yes." I flash her my most charming grin, which only makes her frown. Oh no. A serious talk is coming. It always does when the frown appears. Shit.

"Majesty. I prefer to have you back alive." She paused. Locking her eyes directly with my own, the look in them sent shivers down my spine. "I'm sure Celene would be angry as well." She said. Teeth clenched. For this I had no answer, no smart ass retort. I simply turned my back to her cold and angry glare and went back to packing my horse.

"Just in case you do come back in a body bag; what would you like me to tell the Empress? That you send your love?""

"I don't expect you to say anything." I mumbled. Hardly what I wanted to say, but I've already lost this war.

"I'll have to say something now wont I?"

"Why are we even talking about this?" I roared. It's far too early for this old argument. Only this time it involved me dying. Not sure I like that.

"I found your letters." Anora stated calmly. A wicked sort of smile spread across her lips. Again with a shiver.

I gulped. "_Oh hell_" I thought.

"You left your laptop on and your email opened. Rather idiotic I say." A sadness appeared in her eyes. There were tears in her eyes. It broke my heart to see it. It was hard to resist the urge to wrap my arms around her and pull her into a big, comforting hug. If Anora hates one thing it's pity. "I'm not stupid, nor am I blind. Diplomatic relations with Orlais hardly require monthly week long visits. You're always in a much better mood when you come back. And you aren't making love to me."

She comes to me then. And before I can say anything she kisses me on the cheek. This guilt is almost unbearable. "Even if you don't care for me, know that I care about you. I will miss you Cailan. Please come back safely." With that she exits my chambers.

My packing is sloppy, but I hardly care. Once I'm done; My car is waiting for me just outside the palace gates. Loghain is inside waiting for me. I couldn't help but wonder if he knew. He'd be furious if he did.

I turn to see Anora watching from her chamber window. She looks down at me, as she always has. It's then I make my decision. It's unfair of me to keep her in such a relationship as we have. I smile and wave for the last time. She doesn't return the gesture. I get into the back seat and we leave.

Once this is all over I will be on the first airplane headed for Orlais.


	3. A very magetastic Chapter

**A/N: I took a brief break from DA2 to write this. Good god. What the hell did bioware do to my Anders? They made him whinny and full of angst. I miss my funny Anders, which is how I choose to write him. So very, VERY little angstastic Anders will be in this story. (Yes. I'm bringing in most of the cast from Awakening in a bit early..All but Nate.)**

**It's a chapter full of mage POV's (obviously...given the chapter name) I thought I'd try a new format and go with people from the same class type. Making it easier for all to read. And to write. Somewhat. **

**A huge thanks goes out to my editing wizard Jinx1983 for her awesome editing job. I couldn't do this without you Jinxymonkey! Thanks to all of you to read this story, favorite and take the time to review!**

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**Flemeth's hut, Korcari Wilds**

**February, 7th 2009**

**7:20 am**

**Flemeth: **

The pieces are falling into place. Ever so slowly, but never the less the fall as they were ordained to do. I sit at my table staring at nothingness as I do when the visions come. They are destroying this mind, making me sputter nonsense. Even that will soon change. Soon enough my daughter's body will die, and I will take Morrigan's. It is simply the way of life. My life.

I see them. The Grey Wardens. Fighting for their very survival against those who would threaten this land. All but eight will be left to defend the land. Now that was rather depressing. They will not be alone in their struggles. Companions from far and wide and different backgrounds will help them. The companions intrigue me. What an odd group.

My visions turn back to the Wardens. Interesting. I can not see anything beyond the eight of them fighting Darkspawn. No future warnings, no impending doom. Nothing. I cannot see where their paths will lead them. I cannot wait to meet them all. Although saving them all at once will be taxing. Morrigan will need to help me with that task when it comes to pass.

Ah Morrigan. She will learn everything in time. As so many have tried before she will try to strike me down and she will also fail. Thanks to someone else. I see him, but he is blurred. I know for sure that he is a Warrior of Lothering.

I see the Tevinter battlefields. Ah, so he is a military man. Along with one of the eight Wardens. Oh my, this is most interesting. He will cause change, but what that change may be is completely up to him.

I stand up from my table, which garnered the attention of Morrigan, who looked up from stirring the soup being made in the cauldron.

"Does something trouble you mother?"

I wave away her concerns with my hand. "No child. I need to find my socks. I seem to have misplaced them." I search the room. Blast, no sign of them. My visions can show me people, but not where I misplaced my socks.

Morrigan sighs in frustration. "Mother." She points down to my feet. "You are wearing them"

I follow her finger and chuckle. "Oh. So there they are." I sit myself back down at my table.

Yes. Everything will come together quite nicely. I wonder how Morrigan will handle friendship. Not to mention a former Templar in training who also happens to be...

****

XXXxxxXXX

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Circle of Magi, Ferelden

**February, 18th 2009**

**2:00pm**

**Wynne:**

Training and preparing apprentices for their harrowing has always been exciting if not a bit tedious. Controlling one's magical ability is hard enough, but teaching those with far less experience and control over their abilities is...taxing, yet rewarding. My three current students were all very promising, but a tad reckless.

Of course it rains on the day we are to review fire spells. It leads me to believe the Maker possesses an odd sense of humor sometimes. Why we've been made to practice in the library is something of a mystery. The first enchanter must be in need of room for newer books. It's the only explanation I can come up with.

I hardly flinch as a small, but powerful fire ball flies by my head. The small explosion that followed was louder than expected, but hardly surprising.

"Ms. Amell." I sighed. "Please control your fire spells while we are confined to the library." Turning towards the blazing fire which is currently consuming the shelf of books behind me, I use a simple winter wisp spell in order to extinguish the flames.

"Oh no." I hear Pamela Amell gasp behind me. I turn back to my students. Ms. Amell watches the smoldering shelf with tears in her eyes. As our tower book worm this reaction made sense. "I hadn't even finished reading that section yet." She said, her voice quivering. Glancing over at my other students. Both appear to be less than upset at the current state of the library.

"Only you would see this as a tragedy." Jordan Surana said, snickering loudly, as did Jowan who stood next to him.

"You plebeians." Pamela snarled. "Just because you don't think it particularly tragic doesn't mean someone other than myself wouldn't see it as such, So you know, there are plenty of people within the tower who read just as much as I do, if not more." At this both Jordan and Jowan chuckled. I raise my hand in order to hide my smile.

"None of those people are standing in front of us looking like their about to start crying." Jowan pointed out, still snickering. Pamela opened her mouth to refute Jowan's point. Before a word could be muttered I held up my hand, stopping any further conversation.

"Let's try it again." I suggested as I look at Pamela. "Perhaps this time we could try aiming for the chair instead of book shelves?" She blushes furiously. The look she gives me tells me nothing would please her more than to smack me into the fade. Not that I could blame her.

However; before we could continue with our lesson we were interrupted by Irving. It was odd for Irving to leave his office. Judging by his grim expression the news was not good.

"I'm sorry to interrupt." Irving said, smiling weakly. My students nodded in silent response. "If the three of you will excuse us for a moment." He waved his hand towards the second floor stairs.

All three of my students nodded and made their way back to the apprentice hall, while I followed Irving back to his office. I am anxious to see what has Irving riled up enough to come out of the confines of his office.

"What is on your mind Irving?" I ask, feeling it would be better to get straight to the heart of the matter. Irving sighs, picks up a letter from his desk and holds it out to me, I waste no time in taking it and reading over it's contents. "Maker's breath." I breath as I finish the letter.

"I am to send my best mages to Ostagar." Irving sighed.

"Yes. I read that part Irving." I stated before I could stop myself. He cast me a warning glare as he paced the length of his office.

"I will be sending Uldred and Petra as well. Take only those with notable talent with you."

At this my brow raises. "Uldred? Are you sure that is wise?"

Irving stops pacing and gives me the oddest look. I'm not sure I'm able to describe it. He sighs and slumps his shoulders.

"He may be outspoken in his opinions and a thorn in my side." This was an understatement. "But he is still a skilled mage."

"Since we are on the subject of skills, I believe it's time for Ms. Amell and Mr. Surana to take their harrowing. Both show great promise, and I believe they would be a great help in our efforts in Ostagar." That was rather sly. I have been bothering Irving for a least two months to allow these two talented apprentices to take their harrowing early, but to no avail.

Irving shook his head. "They may be talented. But both have much to learn before they are to contend on a battle field with the darkspawn."

I sigh. Fine. Let us try another approach. "Since you're sending Uldred. Why not send your other problem mage? Oh what is his name again?" I pretend to think for a moment. "Oh that's right... Anders. He's rather talented for someone so young."

A loud snort came from Irving. "At getting himself caught by the damned Templars."

"The fact that he can escape at all shows he is skilled."

"My answer is no." Irving lowered himself into his chair with great effort. "Why you continually ask me to release a mage you've had no contact with is beyond me Wynne, But he is a danger, and a flight risk."

Now it's my turn to snort. Irving raises his brow curiously.

I shake my head. The first enchanter is something of a mystery to me at times. He is willing to send someone who is talented, but speaks obsessively of blood magic. But is unwilling to send an equally talented escape artist.

"So why am I being sent? Are you hoping the darkspawn will tear me apart just as you're hoping they'll do to Uldred."

"I want no one but darkspawn to die on the battlefield." He snapped.

I shrug and turn back towards the door. "I'll pack my things, and search for others to take with us."

"Assemble a party quickly. You'll all be leaving in the morning." He calls out after me.

"Stubborn goat."

Packing took no time at all. Finding anyone willing to fight beside the king's army and against the darkspawn was a far more difficult task.

Come the next morning; Ten of us, plus one tranquil set out for Ostagar.

**XXXxxxXXX**

* * *

****

The lower levels of the Circle Tower, Ferelden.

**Febuary 20th 2009**

**Maker only knows what time it is**

**Anders:**

I've lost track of the days, hours and even seconds. Hardly surprising as there are no windows in this Maker forsaken pit of despair. An oddity given the Templars believe it's for the good of the Maker that I'm down here. Irony is a real bitch sometimes. I'm not a fan of it myself.

Escape number seventeen was just as successful as my last sixteen attempts. I just can't seem to get enough of the Templars down here. Bloody high and mighty bastards kicking me while I'm down. Literally. If I didn't know a bit of healing magic, I'd have bruises everywhere. I sure do hope they get what's coming to them. In their case I hope it's a demon of some sort that rips them all in two.

At least Mr Wiggums is here to keep me company, not to mention sane. No easy task for a human, much less a cat. Yet, somehow he manages to do it. He only allows me to pet him. It always brings on a smile. It makes me feel wanted, loved, comforted. Sad that I get all these things from an animal, but who else am I going to receive all three of these things from at once while I'm down here.

Oh good fucking Maker. Now I sound like one of those whinny twits from Twilight. Can't have that now. Shaking such angst filled thoughts from my head, I start to think of happier things. Like pie. I've never actually had any, but I know I'll like it. Next time I escape, I believe I'll make time to stop at a bakery before the Templars catch me. I think I'd like to try a lemon pie. Tart, yet sweet and gooey. I believe I'd rather enjoy something gooey. All I get in here is plain oatmeal and water. While it does it's job in keeping me alive, I'd like to experience flavor.

It's when I start dreaming about pie that I hear the outside door open. I groan and mentally prepare myself for the steel toed kicks that will surely follow.

"Psst!" Comes a hushed voice through the door. I cautiously walk towards the door and place my ear against the cold metal frame. "Anders? Can you hear me?"

It's the first time in weeks that I've smiled.

"Karl. You shouldn't be down here my friend." I warned. "But if you'd like to rescue me, I would hardly stop you."

Karl snorted. Laughing I suppose. I'd do the same had our roles been reversed. "Like I'd be stupid enough to do that. You'd only escape again and leave me here all alone."

"It's hardly my fault really. I'm a bird, I need to be free!"

"You need a wing clipping."

Could hardly argue with that.

"I came down here to let you know that something is amiss." His voice was low and urgent.

"Amiss even? What are we? Geezers?"

"I'm not joking Anders." Karl hissed shortly. Even with a metal door separating us I could sense his frustration. "There is something bad in the air and it isn't good. Also they've sent a group of elder mages somewhere. I thought you might like to know since I know you like to be kept up to date on all the latest gossip."

"Thank you for letting me know, but do you have anything useful?"

He chuckled. "Some of the new apprentices had to be separated for having...relations."

I laugh at this. As I have been through the same thing."They'll learn to speed things up in time."

"I must go. I just thought I'd tell you what is going on."

"I appreciate it, but I'm fairly sure I'll be down her for a couple months. I believe I'll be safe from any impending doom."

"Let's hope so my friend." His foot steps echoed, as did the slamming of the large metal door. I was nearly alone again.

Walking across the room, I took a seat on the floor next to Mr. Wiggums. Absently I began stroking the top of the cat's head. He purred in delight at the attention he was receiving.

"My poor, poor Anders." Purred Mr. Wiggums. At first I thought I might be hearing things, or perhaps being isolated has drove me making up imaginary friends in my head. Slowly, I withdrew my hand from the cat's head and peered down. His eyes were glowing a most vibrant green.

"Oh hell." I mutter.

"Down here all alone." It continued as he brushed his head against my dangling hand. "Surely that upsets you a great deal."

"Vengeance demon." I mutter as I pull my hand away.

"So very observant as well." If a cat could smile, surely it was doing so now. Very creepy.

As I looked down at the possessed cat a wicked thought ran through my mind. Could I really do that? I looked up at the door. The intercom switch in plain view. As the smirk spread across my lips, I knew I could do it.

I got up from the floor; quickly walking across the room. I pushed the call button. "Hello there." I called loudly into the speaker. There was a mumbled acknowledging response. "I haven't seen any of you for a while, and I simply miss the company."

"Shut up Anders." The Templars down here know me by name. How sad. "This com is to be used for emergencies only." Barked the bastard Templar on the other end.

I sighed into the intercom. "Oh fine. I suppose I'll simply have to go back to conversing with this demon."

Never had I seen a group of Templars appear so quickly. Seven of them filed through the metal door, swords out and at the ready. They looked about and saw nothing out of the ordinary. Dumb fuckers.

All seven Templars turned and glared at me. "That was a dirty trick, mage." Said a rather gruff looking Templar. "I have half a mind to..."

The guard never completed his sentence. Mr. Wiggums leaped at his throat, viciously tearing it out. Blood spewed forth from the Templar's opened neck.

"Ewww." I sneered as I wiped the blood from my pristine robe.

Wasting no time, it lavished the same attention to the Templar standing next to the currently deceased Templar. One must have made it out of the room and called for reinforcements because soon my room was filled with Templars. All chasing after a cat.

They finally cornered and stabbed the poor thing. But Maker, what a show. I am sad that Mr. Wiggums had to die in such a way, but that is the most fun I've had in solitary...well... ever.

**XXXxxxXXX  
**

* * *

**Circle of Magi, Apprentice quarters. **

**February 25th 2009**

**5:00pm**

**Pamela Amell:**

"So. Pam." Jordan whispers in my ear. I'm sure he believes himself to be a smooth operator. There are plenty of admiring talk and gushing among the female apprentices to fuel his ego. While the elf is undeniably attractive, I am hardly among his adoring female admires. He's so annoying. In fact I usually feel the need to knock him down a couple of pegs. Isn't that what best friends do? Keep each other in check? It's nothing too mean. Just enough to let him know his piercing green eyes and suave smile can't charm everyone he meets. It's all in good fun. Most of the time.

I bring up my hand, place it over his smug face and gently push him away. "Hey!" He chuckled softly. "You didn't even know what I was going to ask you.

I roll my eyes and look up at him. Making sure to wear my best 'You have to be fucking kidding me' look. A corner of his lips starts to twitchs as it usually does when he spews bullshit. Which is often.

"Pam. Could you please, please do my homework for me? I would totally do it myself but I get far too distracted by the sheer amount of bosoms in class to pay any kind of attention. " I do my best to mimic his low baritone voice. He flashed me a cheesy smile.

"Oh no. I'm becoming predictable." He pulled up a chair next to mine. I snort followed by a rolling of my eyes.

"Becoming?" I chuckled. "My dearest Jordan. If you were any more predictable you'd be a tranquil."

He turned his head toward me and glared. "That's just mean, wormy."

I smirk at the use of my nickname. Jordan and Jowan had thought it up at least seven years ago. Both my friends made sure that my nick name spread like wild fire through out the tower. Now everyone called me "Wormy" I rather like it

"I know. I apologize." I sighed.

"Jowan has been acting awfully strange as of late." Jordan blurted. Random subject changes came naturally to him. I used to think it was just another way he could annoy the hell out of me. It isn't. He does it with everyone. I think he grows tired of one conversation and takes it upon himself to start something far more interesting.

I sigh. "Strange how?" I do my best to sound disinterested and fail at that. It's true Jowan has been rather...distant as of late. I assumed it was a girl. Then it was confirmed that it was indeed a girl. Although he won't tell either Jordan or myself who this mystery girl is. I believe she may be of inflatable persuasion. Jordan thinks Jowan has made up a girlfriend in his head.

"He's been so mopish lately."

"Well if people were going around spreading untrue blood mage rumors about me, I know I'd be out of sorts too." I whispered.

Jordan's face darkened. "Those stupid rumors. I wish people would stop going on and on about that."

I place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Which earns me some nasty looks from a group of Jordan's admirers sitting at a nearby table. I ignore them as I always do.

"You know as well as I, Jowan is no blood mage. It's just silly rumors." I stood from the table. Jordan stood with me. Together we walked back to the apprentice quarters. It was late and we were both tired from having classes all day. Which were sadly being taught by tranquils. Talk about boring.

"Any progress with that Templar you have the hots for?" Jordan grinned sheepishly.

Ass.

"Some." It was the truth. Cullen is sweet. For a Templar. He's handsome, likes to read. If only he'd talk to me instead of stuttering a few mumbled words and running away. "He spoke more than five words to me yesterday."

"Oh?" He raised a curious brow. "That is progress. Good for you!"

We part ways. Jordan had the oddest smirk. It was a smirk that only showed itself when he was up to something. I don't want to know.

I undress and redress myself in my night robes and hop into bed. My feet hit something hard at the end of my bed. I pull back the covers. What awaits me makes my blood boil.

"JORDAN!" I roared, as I threw the charred book at the door. On the other side of that door came hysterical laughter.

I hate my best friend sometimes.


	4. Elves aplenty

**A/N: Welcome to the elf chapter! This was a pleasant surprise. I didn't expect this chapter to be a joy to write, but it was. Maybe elves are my thing. **

**I'm bringing in several people from DA2. Either because they caught my eye (with the load of characters they gave us THAT is hard to do), or because they made me giggle and I thought they might be fun to write. **

**I would like to thank my beta and idea goddesses: Isabella Monroe and Jinx1983. You two are the best! **

**Thanks to everyone for reading, reviewing and adding this to your favorites. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Antiva City, Antiva**

**March 6th, 2009**

**10:30pm**

**Zevran: **

The bouncer waved me in without hesitation. Nodding in thanks, I entered the packed club. Not only was it hot and crowded, but the loud thumping of the heavily based music reverberated in my ears. I cringed at the uncomfortable sensation it brought to my sensitive hearing. I am already fully aware of my employer's utter dislike for me, but this is cruel even for him. Question a man's authority on a weekly basis since puberty (Going on about ten years now) and this is what happens. I suppose I would do the same if I had a pain in the ass like myself working under me.

I wade through the sea of twenty somethings. It's hard not to take notice of young ladies and their low cut shirts. I like what I see. As do they. Most would be laughed out of a room for wearing a skin tight, low cut, bright orange t-shirt . Yet, for some reason I receive more longing stares than anything. Suits me just fine. I wink at some of the younger, and unbelievably attractive young ladies on my way through. Hopefully I'll get to know them later in a slightly more intimate setting.

I look for any signs of someone I might know. I feel someone tap me on the shoulder from behind me . As I turn I am met by the face of my friend and partner in crime so to speak; Taliesen. Friend might possibly be too strong a word in this case. Making friends in my line of work is damn near impossible, but it's as good a word as any for the time being.

"Cosa ti porta qui?" It is a pointless question as I know exactly why he's here. Guarding our boss, Alrigo. There are seven Crow factions in Antiva City alone, each Crow leader is always looking to expand territories. By any means necessary. Traveling with good, but expendable guards is a part of their survival, and it's sadly a part of our job description.

Taliesen smirks. " I soliti." the usual would be correct. Alrigo does seem to enjoy Taliesen's company as of late. Alrigo's favorites within his own changed almost weekly, which made this hardly surprising. I was never his favorite. Thank the Maker for small favors.

"Dov'è Alrigo?" I ask. Taliesen points towards the roped off V.I.P. section of the club. I sigh and roll my eyes. I should have known. Alrigo wouldn't dare be caught in the middle of all of these poor Antivans. Despite the fact that he had been one of them for many years. How many is still unsure. Alrigo keeps his age a closely guarded secret. Those of us who work for him, place him about about one hundred and four years old. Give or take a few years.

Giving Taliesen a short nod before I made my way through the massively sweaty crowd. Once I reach the red roped section, I am waved in by someone with more muscles than brains.

The V.I.P. room is usually filled with nobility and rich men and women wanting to better acquaint themselves with others of similar wealth and stature. Tonight the large room was empty. It was rather surprising, I simply wrote it off as the night still being young.

Alrigo is sitting in his usual booth near a back left hand corner. He was looking unusually content simply staring into his glass of whiskey in front of him. This was enough to cause me momentary pause. He enjoys surrounding himself with a barrage of beautiful women and men. All of which he would take home with him later in the night. Yet there he sat. Alone.

Not giving myself time to give the scene much thought, I slipped into the booth across. Neither of us speak. On my part it's keeping my fool mouth shut. I may be one of his best, but I know I've been pushing my luck lately. I'd rather not give him too much cause to send me off on a mission I'll never return from. Although, it would serve her right. On his part I assume it's to be annoying. I keep calm, even though his ploy is working.

Staring into his glass he runs a finger slowly around the rim. "I have a job for you." He says. Speaking in anything other than Antivan is something of an oddity for him. Only doing so when he did not want those around him to know what was being said.

I nod. Validating that I heard and understood what was being said.

"This job will require traveling to Ferelden." He sighed.

I cringe followed by a groan of disgust. I loath the smell of wet dog. This is what all of Ferelden smells like. Judging by the unwavering harsh look Alrigo was giving me I didn't have much choice in the matter. As if I ever did.

"With the threat of darkspawn there were no doubt be tension among the nobles." Alrigo said. As he continued to trace the rim of his glass. "Some might be in need of a good, discrete blade." Looking up from is glass, his cold Grey eyes bore into mine. "You are my best Zevran. This is why am sending you. I suggest you pick your people wisely. You leave tomorrow morning." He held up ten ship boarding passes. After I took them he dismissed me with the wave of his hand. I slid from the booth and walked away without looking back.

I would love nothing more than to dismiss him with a quick slash to his jugular. Damn bastard. Sending me to Ferelden with no money, no contact and no set goal in mind. It was pointless to argue as his stubborn mind was already made up. He could at least give me enough money for a shit hole inn.

Wading and shoving my way through the crowded dance floor was even more difficult the second time around. Finally I made it to the bar and ordered a shot of brandy. I downed it all in one shot. The liquid tingled and burned as it slid down my throat. I shuddered at the sensation, slammed the shot glass down and ordered another. This was going on Alrigo's tab. I'm determined to make him pay for something.

On the stool next to me sat Taliesen, watching me as I drank myself into oblivion. Or something close to it. "Where are you going that requires so much drinking my friend." He said. His Ferelden accent hadn't bothered me before. So why did it bother me now?

"Wet dog." Was all I said before I downed my third shot. I'm starting to feel the effects of the brandy as my head is just slightly foggy. I decide it's not foggy enough and order a fourth.

At this Taliesen laughs. "As if the smell of leather is any better."

"It is." I state dully.

"A matter of opinion." He holds up his hand and orders himself a beer. "Don't get me wrong. I don't envy you. I hear Ferelden is in a state of war at the moment. I wouldn't go back if I had the choice. But there are a lot worse smells than dog." We looked thoughtfully at each other for a moment.

"Nevarra." Both of us say. It smells of magic, superiority and death. Not a pleasant combination if you ask me. Apparently, Nevarrans love it. None of us Crows enjoy traveling to the snotty towns of Nevarra. But there is always good coin in off-ing the nobles there.

"See." Teased Taliesen. "Leaving here might take your mind off of...Things." His voice became slightly sorrowful. When had Rinna become a thing? Bastard.

"Do not refer to her as a "thing"." I slurred angrily. Not even I could take me seriously at this point.

"Sorry Zev."

"It's okay."

After two shots were quickly downed, Taliesen helped me from the club back to my shit hole of an apartment. The roaches would be my only companions tonight. How depressing.

I fell asleep the moment Taliesen tossed me onto my rock hard bed. I'm fairly sure he said goodnight and I might have mumbled something in return. Can't be sure of that one. It was the last civilized conversation we would ever have as friends. 

* * *

**Ostagar, Ferelden**

**March 10th 2009**

**1:00pm**

**Marlon Tabris**

If someone had somehow magically transported me back in time and were to warn the past me that my wedding day would be ruined by Bann Vaughn and his group of brainless followers. I'd completely believe them. I know my own luck, and that somehow fits.

If they were to tell me not only would your bride-to-be die honorably while saving your sorry ass, and your cousin and a group of your friends would be kidnapped a raped. All because you decided to finally take a stand against Vaughn. I would believe that too. Pushed too far I have a bit of a temper on me.

I would believe everything up until the Grey Warden stepped in just before I was to be arrested for murder and he conscripted me into the single most elite branch of the military. Yet here I am. Helping fix up Ostagar to accommodate a massive army. I'm still wearing my baggy blue jeans, and the black tattered long sleeve shirt I was wearing the day I was recruited. It was still stained with the blood of the Bann and his guards I had killed in order to save my friends. Not that I'm wearing it as some sign of honor or anything. No one can seem to find my sized clothing laying round the camp.

While I am grateful to Duncan for saving me from a fate that would surely lead to my death. Part of me is slightly resentful. The Alienage is all I have ever known. I miss my friends and cousins Shianni and Soris. However, I miss my father more than anything. For obvious reasons of course. Support, love, a tongue lashing when one is needed.

The resentment will fade soon enough. I hate to admit it but I'm resentful because I'm scared. It's a new way of life, in a new place, new people. Although I will say the prejudice from everyone in the King's army makes me feel right at home. Shems and their superiority complex make me feel right at home.

I'm so lost in though I smash my thumb with my hammer.

"Fuck." I hiss as I wiggle my thumb. Thankfully it's not broken. Good Maker it sure as hell hurts like a son of a bitch.

The Warden next to me gives me a sympathetic look and a bandage. "I would stop moving it." He muttered as he helped me wrap my hand.

A shem being nice to a lowly alienage elf? Has hell finally frozen over? "Umm...Thank you?" I didn't mean for it to come out as a question. It just kinda happened that way. The Warden chuckled softly.

"You may not be a Warden yet, but I hold every confidence you soon will be. Regardless of what race you are, Wardens always look out for our own." He smiled. This was true. I've been here a month and a half and not a single man within the Warden's camp has so much as sneered at me. They treated me as a fellow human.

Now I'm really confused.

"T...Thank you Riordan."

"Ah. Now that I've helped in the rescue of your thumb, It appears I am now worthy of being addressed by my name instead of a number." He chuckled. I could feel the heat rush into my cheeks. I averted my eyes from Riordan's to the ground. This only made the Warden laugh a little harder.

I know nearly every one's name, but in order to keep everyone straight I call them by the number in which I met them. It's easier to keep them straight in my head. Riordan had Warden number two, as he was the second Warden I met upon my arrival to Ostagar. Duncan would be Warden number one.

"Can I ask you a question?" I asked. I was not only eager to change the subject, but this is a question I have been dying to know since my arrival.

Riordan stopped laughing and made a curious sound.

"I've been hearing a lot about the joining from the other Wardens. I know you can't tell me what it involves or what it is. I was wondering why haven't I completed mine yet?" I looked up from the ground back up to Riordan. There was humor in his eyes, along with a smirk. A most puzzling reaction.

"Supplies are low at the moment. So you might have to wait a bit longer. That and we usually wait for a larger group before preforming a joining. At the moment it's just you and Daveth." He stated in a matter of fact tone. "Have patience my young friend. Believe me when I say the joining is not something you want to rush in to."

"That sounds rather ominous." I said. The other Warden's were careful about speaking of the joining in front of Daveth and myself, but I had heard it was apart of becoming a Warden. Otherwise the two of us have been left in the dark. While I respect the fact that it's a secret within the order, it's rather annoying to be kept at arm's length until we get this mysterious process over and done with.

The Warden smiled down sadly at me. It was a thing with the Wardens, whenever they didn't want to talk about something they smiled sadly. It's not only cryptic, but really annoying.

My annoyance was clear as I frowned and scowled. Riordan chuckled as he clasped me on the back, urging me to follow him back to camp.

"Come my friend. For the afternoon is young, and my stomach is sadly empty. As I am sure yours is as well."

It was. These guys each have the appetite of fifty men. Sometimes I would watch them eat. It was gross but oddly mesmerizing. They would snarf down meats of all varieties, vegetables, things I'm not even sure would be considered food by anyone. Pies and cake were consumed in abundance at the end of every meal. It's a wonder these men don't weigh a billion pounds!

I have never, nor would I even bother to keep up with them. I know my stomach would surely explode. I'm also not a huge fan of throwing up. I would eat what I could, then simply watch them.

"Will there be chocolate cake?" I ask. Looking up hopefully at Riordan.

"Maker, but you do enjoy your chocolate don't you?"

"Before coming here I had never had the stuff. It's amazingly good." I said excitedly.

"Of course there will be."

"Warden Riordan!" Called out a voice from behind us. It was the King. Both Riordan and I bowed in turn as he approached.

The King is an airhead. He is nice enough to everyone here, but it's obvious in the way he speaks of battles that relies too much on the fairly tales read to him as a boy. Sometimes his prattling drive Duncan crazy. Sometimes I'll hear Duncan telling Riordan that he'd love to smack some sense into that boy, but is afraid of hurting his hand on that stone head of his.

"Your Majesty." Riordan said politely. "How may I be of service today?"

"You haven't by any chance seen Duncan about have you? I was hoping he and I could take a walk into the Wilds today. I'd love to search for the dreaded swap witch." He grinned hopefully.

He truly is an idiot. It takes every ounce of restraint I have not to roll my eyes. I glanced up at Riordan. His jaw tightened, but other wise gave no sign of annoyance.

"I'm afraid Duncan isn't here." Riordan didn't elaborate on his statement.

I had over heard his and Duncan's conversation this morning. Duncan mentioned something about being able to feel a unbelievably strong evil taint near by Brecilian Forest. The Warden-Commander felt it was his job to investigate. Odd being able to feel this taint thingy, but good for the Dalish I suppose. I heard that's where their camp is these days.

The King sighed in disappointment. "I suppose it can wait a couple of weeks."

We bowed as the deflated King stalked back towards his tent.

"And now I am in need of a drink." Riordan muttered. I nodded in agreement. We both left for the Warden encampment.

Upon our arrival in the tent I was immediately rushed over to the card table, and taught how to play Gin Rummy. It was complicated at first, but soon enough we were playing speed games. I was even able to win a hand. We soon moved on to a game of poker. A game I knew well. I was able to stack the deck a couple of times, and win some coin from a couple of unsuspecting men. My guilt got the better of me after a while, and I returned my less than honest loot. The men were thankfully not angry, but did take me for every coin I had.

As much as I miss my old home and everyone in it. I think I'm going to like this one just as much. 

* * *

**Outside of the Brecilian forest. Ferelden**

**March 11th 2009**

**9:00am**

**Zella Mahariel **

Watching my prey from the shadows was the only way I was going to win this game. If I wanted to stay one step ahead of the enemy, I would have to start thinking like him. I would have to use his weaknesses against him. The element of surprise was on my side, I simply had to use it wisely.

I watched as he stalked quietly through the woods. Trying his best to be quiet, unaware he was already being watched. In order to keep up with him, I try to avoid any trails that have any ground growing plants. Any kind of bustling will give away my position.

He stopped close to a opening, near a waterfall. It wasn't until that moment I realized how stupidly cocky I had been. He knew exactly where I was this whole time. Before I could duck behind a nearby tree, he brought up his bow, spun on his heels and released an arrow into the tree next to me.

"Creators above!" I exclaimed as I jumped back in surprise from the arrow nearly hitting my head. I look over at Tamlen. He is smiling and appears to be beyond pleased with himself. The rage I feel is currently clouding any other thought process. My only mission now is to beat that satisfied grin off of his stupid, smug face. "Ma emma harel!" I yell. At this he chuckles. This only fuels my anger.

My fists clinched at my side, I am fully prepared to strike and hopefully rearrange that pretty face of his. Before I can do anything, Tamlen firmly grips my shoulders, leans down and kisses me. His mouth violently claiming my own. My eyes grow wide at his sudden action. The anger slowly fades, but I struggle against his grip anyway. He only digs his nails harder into my exposed flesh. It excites both of us.

His lips hovered over mine. I look into his eyes, they mirror my own. Desire. I want to rip away his long, protective grey pants, along with his matching short white top. Just as I know he would love nothing more than to rip away my short white skirt, and sports bra. For the sake of foreplay, clothing and the removal of them shall be ignored for now.

"And if I'm don't?" He mummers against my lips. His low voice sends shivers down my spine. I find I am unable to answer, or form any kind of thought worth speaking. Taking complete advantage of my speechlessness Tamlen brings his lips down upon my own once again. His kiss is far more tender this time. My lips parted. His tongue started exploring my mouth as if he had never tasted me before. Gods I love his kisses.

I am thankful his left arm is wrapped around my waist. It's the only thing keeping me upright. My head is swimming and my knees feel as if they are about to buckle from underneath me. His kisses always have this effect on me. Lightheaded, unable think straight. I'm starting to think being upright is counter productive.

A soft moan passes my lips. I drop my own bow to the ground so to wrap my arms around his neck. He tenderly caresses my flushed cheek with the back of his hand.

Just as suddenly as it had started he brought our passionate kiss to an end. I dropped to my knees when his arm unfurled from around my waist. We were both breathless. I glanced up at Tamlen who was looking off into the distance behind me. I had heard the rustling of leaves, but choose to ignore them.

I guess some of us take our paroling duties a little more seriously than others.

"I'm sorry emma vhenan." He said. Holding out his hand he helped me from the ground. "I heard something coming from over there." he said pointing to the thicket behind me.

Brushing away the earth from my leg, I bend over and pick up my bow. Tamlen did the same. "I heard it too." I say. Not bothering to keep the annoyance from my tone.

"Come on." He urged, taking hold of my hand and tugging me towards the woods. "Let's check it out."

"I hate it when you say that." I mumbled as I let him drag me.

It turns out the noise we heard was three humans. Scared. Seeing two elves armed with bows didn't help, but they look terrified of something.

Sadly Tamlen was eager to find out, and brought me a long for the ride. 

* * *

**Wending Wood, Ferelden**

**March 27th 2009**

**3:00 am**

**Velanna: **

My clan is asleep. How strange that sounds, even in my own head. MY clan. It still doesn't feel real. I am a Keeper. The others who left with me have begun to doubt my ability to lead. Fools. I will show them and every one else that I am fully capable of being a Keeper. I will take back our history, even if I have to kill every damn shemlen in Thedas to do so.

Dirty shems. I hate how they act as if they are the superior race. As if they were here first and have every right to be here. The rest of us should be kissing the bottoms of their shoes in thanks for allowing us to share the same air. Bastards.

But first things first. Reclaiming Dalish history first. Shemlen exterminations soon to follow.

I watch my sister sleep. She believes in me. This is why she followed me, she wants to see me succeed. She wants to reclaim our heritage as much as I do. Almost.

Now I have myself all worked up. I believe a patrol is in order. I have to keep my clan safe. Only I can keep my clan safe. For Ferelden isn't the safest of places to be at the moment. Maybe we should think about moving elsewhere. Then I'd have to gather coin, and spend time with humans to get to where ever we'd be going. No. I believe Ferelden is fine for now.

"Velanna?" My sister yawns sleepily. I smile down at her. Sweet thing.

"Hush Seranni. Go back to sleep." I order. She nods and falls back asleep. Such a good listener.

Now, it's time to hunt. It will be daylight soon, and we need to eat. Boar, wolf, or giant spider is the question of the day. Maybe it will be a surprise.

* * *

Tantervale, Tevinter Imperium

**April,1st 2009**

**Who keep track of time when one is a broody slave.**

**Fenris: **

"Come now Fenris. Can life with me be all that bad?" Asked my master, Danarius. He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear me say it. I wouldn't be fed until I did. I wouldn't be fed either way, so I kept my mouth shut. Instead glaring at the withered bastard. Hoping my gaze would burn a hole in the middle of his forehead.

"Ungrateful retch!" Hadriana sneered as she slapped my cheek. The tip of her finger nail grazed my flesh. It left a scar and a trickle of blood in it's wake. I did not so much as flinch, but continued to glare at Danarius.

"Fine." Danarius sneered. "Get up. We're going to the docks. I need you with me in case any one decides to come after me." He pulled me up by my hair.

Hadriana held up my leash. Danarius shook his head. "That won't be necessary."

Those were words he would regret for years to come.

**XXXxxxXXX**

There it is. My way out of Tevinter for good. Away from a life of slavery and pain. More importantly, I'd be away Danarius. A dream finally realized. I need to find a way onto that damned ship. Danarius has his eye on me, even when I think he isn't looking. I need a distraction. Something big enough to keep his attention from me if but a moment.

I believe the boat is leaving for Seheron. At this point I don't really care where it's going as long at it's away from here.

Glancing back at Danarius I see he is arguing with a fellow Magister. Bastards. All of them. I sneer in disgust as I watch the disgusting mages argue over power. It's always an argument over power.

It was then something amazing happened. Thank you mother nature. I am wandered towards the boat, when suddenly the earth shook beneath my feet. The Magisters around me are panic stricken. It dawns on me that this is exactly what I had asked for.

Wasting no time, I ran up the boat's ramp and hid myself amongst the cabin boys. Perfect cover. When the boat left the port, I risked showing myself on deck. We're far from the port, but my markings make me easy to spot. I can hear Danarius screaming at the boat to stop. Even threatening it. He may be powerful, but he's not stupid. Attacking a Qunari ship just to get back a slave would have made him look bad to the other Magisters.

He would no doubt come for me eventually, but until that time I am finally free to go where ever this boat is going. Perhaps someday I'll make it somewhere near Ferelden. I hear there's no end to the darkspawn. I do enjoy slaughtering those things.

Danarius had brought me to the battlefields, where armies from all over were battling darkspawn non-stop. It was most surprising to learn that magisters are no more fond of darkspawn than anyone else in Thedas.

While I was there I met a woman on the battlefield who hails from Ferelden. She offered to help me escape, she asked for nothing in return. Why I said no is still beyond me. Perhaps I was too shocked that any human could get past my appearance, or that a human would give a rat's ass about a elven slave.

If the Ferelden people are as caring and kind as she, then I truly would not mind visiting. If they look like this one did, that would be even better. Her shoulder length blond hair, her unnaturally bright green eyes were warm and caring, and her slender body had invaded my dreams more than once.

I wonder if her time on the battlefield is done with by now. She said she had served two rounds in the Imperium and would be going back home soon. Highever I believe is where she said her home was, but spoke no more of it.

The more I think on it, the better of an idea it becomes. I need to show her that I am able to think for myself. I need to show her that I chose freedom. Finding coin and a ship heading in that direction will be time consuming, but it must be done. I must see her again. Not even Danarius can stop me from doing that much.


	5. Little people, Big problems

**A/N: I have to admit I was TOTALLY dreading the write up of this chapter. With the exception of Varric (I love my smart asses in any size), I really didn't find myself connecting with any of the dwarves and the problems each one had. Much to my surprise this chapter came along rather quickly, and with little to no problems. Which is a HUGE relief. **

**Next is the humans. I'm still working out who I want/need to fit into that chapter. Might need my idea gnomes for this next chapter. FINALLY an end in sight for this VERY long prologue. **

**A huge thanks to ****my beta goddesses and all around chicks of awesomeness: Isabella Monroe and Jinx1983. This was a giant chapter. So thank you both for taking the time to go over and fix my mistakes. A huge thanks to those of you who review, read, and favorite this AU story of mine. **

**Oh yeah...and because I keep forgetting. The overlords at Bioware own everything..I'm just playing with what they gave me.**

* * *

**XXXxxxXXX**

**The Commons, Orzammar **  
**April 12th 2009 **  
**2:00 pm **

**Oghren: **

Mornings are a real ass kicker. Headaches. Sore bones, swollen...eye's and hands from a fight one doesn't even remember being apart of. Over the years, I've found that the only real cure for shitty mornings like these is nice cold beer. You warm up with a beer, then slowly work your way up to the harder things like rum and brandy. Some think I'm crazy for curing a would-be hangover with more alcohol. To this, I say mind your own fucking business bar keep and give me another.

I wander through my small hut and into my small kitchen. It consists of a refrigerator/freezer combination and a microwave. No sense in having much of anything else since I can't cook for shit. I pull open the door to my refrigerator. I sigh at the sight before me. Bottle after bottle of beer, ranging from the cheapest dwarven dirt mix, to the mediocre piss water. All fine in my book.

I reach for a bottle of dwarven ale. Twisting the top off, I bring the bottle to my mouth. The first drop makes me sigh in satisfaction. Nothing like an ice cold beer in the morning before work. It really takes the edge off. Even if it does taste like a mix of dirt and unwashed sock.

In my sober moments I'm more bitter than I like to be. I blame my wife, Branka and her whole sodding house. Because of them I'm laughed at every time I step out of my home, at work, hell I even hear snickers in the crapper. If only that Nug brained woman hadn't run off after a ghost story.

Not to say we would be a happy couple or anything, but it would be a lot sodding better than living without her. It's selfish, but isn't what Branka did selfish as well? Taking her entire house, but leaving her own husband behind? I will never understand that sodding women.

This is why my sober moments are just that. Moments. I don't like dwelling on the past. I'm not a huge fan of giving into my feelings. Thanks to alcohol I don't have to.

Branka leaving me isn't the only reason why those other nug-nut sucking dwarves laugh at me all day long. Since. I've been making weekly visits to the assembly since Branka and her house disappeared, begging the assembly to send a search party into the Anvil of the Void. I'm always thrown out of the assembly hall by some muscle headed guardsmen.

Also. My sword work has been sloppy as of late. When one's job is to guard the deep road miners from the darkspawn, one's skill comes into question. It would just be easier if I were to stop drinking, but I am no quitter.

Squeezing into my heavy silver armor was a chore. Sodding shame that it's a requirement to wear. It's a wonder anyone can figure this shit out, with all the buttons and fancy zippers everywhere. Also and I think I've put on a few pounds. I tend not to care about the former since I've no one to impress.

After at least fifteen minutes of struggling with my armor, I manage to get myself into the fucking thing. I don't bother worrying about closing every button or zipper. Only the important ones. Can't the lasses a free show.

I don't waste time showering or brushing anything. I'll just be bloody by the end of my shift, no need to get all cleaned up for that. After quickly downing two bottles of ale, I grab the large battle-axe lying against my door frame and leave for work.

The usual of snickers and smart ass comments from the snooty rich bitches followed in my wake. I ignore them and head into the barracks where I know my company leader will be livid and awaiting my arrival.

"You're two hours late you useless topsider turd." My company leader grumbled as soon as I clocked in for the day.

"By the Ancestors tits man. Can't you wait five flipping minutes before whining about time?" I gripe back. My boss snorts in disgust, as most higher ranked pricks do.

"I'm paying you to be on time. It's the least you can do."

"Ah. There yer wrong. You ain't paying me. That would be the assembly. And Not showing up at all would be the least I can do." I'm sure his glare is meant to send shivers down my spine. It doesn't."But I know that would just please all of you nug humpers to no end. We can't have that now can we."

He sneers in disgust. I know he wants to threaten me. Fire me. Embarrass me in front of my fellow warriors. He knows from experience it will do little good.

"You're drunk again." He sneers. I can't help but laugh at this observation.

"If I were drunk, do ya think the two of us would be talking like this?" I could fake sobriety when I needed to. I felt now was the time to test my acting skills. I should have tried out for the gruff Dwarf in that one nerd movie a couple years back. Would have been a great kick in the ass to everyone here.

"I don't have time to argue with you." He grumbled bitterly. "Show up late again you'll be patrolling Dusk Town. Is that clear soldier?"

I give him a grin and a sloppy salute. "Whatever you say...Sir" I called after him. I turn to see a mob has formed behind me. Shit.

Out steps Kolceck. My biggest pain in the ass. Cock sucker's been actively trying to get me fired for months. If I even so much as look at him wrong, he whines to my commanding officer. Real pussycat this one. He also fought for Branka's attention when I was wooing her myself. He's never forgiven me for winning her hand. Some people just need to let shit go.

"What do you want?" I sneer.

"I was hoping to see him finally fire your fat ugly ass."

"How do you know my ass is ugly?"

"I assume it's one of the many, MANY reasons Branka left you. Aside from being useless that is." He chuckled. No one else joined him.

Before I could stop myself, I raised my battle-axe and ran towards him. The rest of the crowd gasped in shock, but quickly had the sense of mind to back away at a safe distance.

Kolceck knew it was coming. The bastard had been asking for a fight for months with his snide comments, and insults.

He raised his Great Broadsword in defense. It was times like this I'm glad I'm quick to anger. My Berserker instincts take over. It doesn't do much to clear me out of my drunken haze, but the rage does tell me, without words, where my target it and how much force should be used. My Berserker talent is the only reason I haven't been discharged from the Army.

The unmistakable clink of metal filled the air as our blades fell against one another. He pushes hard against my blade in order to throw me backwards, and off balance. I think to myself it won't work. Even as I fly backwards and land flat on my ass.

Kolceck is laughing at me. At least I think he is. It might be the crowd that has gathered around us. Either way, it's pissing me off. A frustrated roar comes from my mouth as I push myself up, raise my ax, and run at him. I swung my blade wildly at his head. I don't know why he didn't block my blow, I suppose I'll never know. My blade slid across his neck, taking Kolceck's head with it.

My attention was on Kolceck's headless body, while the crowd's attention was on his flying head. His body fell to the floor, and twitched as the nerves in his body died one by one.

"Oghren." Came my commander's voice from behind me. Oh fuck balls. No good was going to come of this. Slowly I turn around and face my commander. The hatred in his eyes left me with no doubts this would not end well.

"Sir. He started..." He cut me off before I could finish. I looked back at the stunned crowd. No one said a word in my defense. Super.

"I really don't get two nug shit piles who started this." He held out his hand. "Give me your weapon." He ordered.

"What?"

"I'm revoking your right to carry a weapon. Now hand it over. Unless you rather I take it by force." He said. Wiggling his fingers impatiently. I opened my mouth to argue, only to find I couldn't speak. It's hard to speak when one is throwing up all over your former commanding officer. Well, at least I went out giving my commanding officer exactly what he deserved. A new look for his shoes.

But if I'm not a warrior, or a soldier. What else can I do?

* * *

**XXXxxxXXX**

**Diamond Quarters, Orzammar**

**April 19h 2009**  
**12:30 pm**

**Brand Aeducan**  
I know exactly why the King has called me. It's a conversation I've been dreading since boyhood. Try as I might I can't seem to find a way out of it. In a week I will be twenty-five and ready to carry out my royal duty.

As my father's second child, it is my job to lead his armies. It will be asked that I prove myself worthy enough of such an honor. Ha. That's laughable. I hardly consider ordering men about to be an honor. My eldest brother is at least going to be King after father passes. Trian will most likely run Orzammar into the ground with his belief's, but it should would be fun to watch him fail from the side lines. No. Instead I am to take orders from that spiteful nug humper. I think things about my brother I would never say aloud.

Before entering I check over my neatly trimmed back beard for any flaws. I also inspect my royal blue uniform and yellow cape for any imperfections. There is not even a spec of dust to be found. I had my servants check it over the blasted thing with a fine comb, just to be sure I wasn't going blind. Ancestors forbid there be a lint ball on a uniform I've never even worn! It would be all the gossip among the nobles.

I take a deep breath before pushing open the main hall doors. My eyes are drawn to my father. He sits in his chair near the back of the room. Looking larger than life. He is shinny gold King's armor, with this ever important gold crown sitting upon his forehead. His long white beard was long, but well kept thanks to his royal beard trimmers. The bags under his eyes tells me he still isn't sleeping well. Nightmares have plagued him for months. He won't tell me what, but they must be horrible to keep him from sleeping a full night.

On father's left stands Lord Harrowmont. My father's most trusted adviser and friend. He is a good man, level headed, voice of reason. Unfortunately a bit too traditional and unwilling to accept new ideas that would put Orzammar ahead of Kal-Sharok in innovation department.

On father's right stands my brother Trian. His eyes glistening with want as he stared at father's crown. Fucking vulture can wait for the old man to die so he can wear that blasted crown. Disgusting. Sometimes I think about running against my brother, and swaying the assembly to cast it's vote for me instead of Train. If I were the backstabbing sort, I could just kill him and play it up as an accident. But that isn't me. I don't want to rule anything. Hell, I don't even want to command an army of my own people for fucks sake!

Behind Trian stands our youngest brother, Bhelen. There was a look of sympathy in his eyes. I returned them, silently relaying my distress and discomfort at the whole situation. Bhelen is not only my brother, but my one of my closest friends. We speak of everything, which is why I'm getting the pity glance from him.

The nobles of Orzammar have gathered for my father's formal announcement of my coming of age. Super. Nothing like being on the sodding spot. I call feel all eyes on me as soon as I make the walk from the door up to my father. It's making me nervous. I feel as if they can see the beads of sweat dripping from my forehead. I have to work hard to keep my face passive, and void of any kind of emotion. Can't let the vultures see my fear.

I stop before my father, and drop to one knee. Even though I'm his son, he is still our king I am to bow like everyone else. After allotting the standard seven seconds to pass. I raise myself, waiting for my father to speak. He smiles fondly at me and nods.

"Atrast vala, my son." His voice is strong and commanding.

"Atrast vala, father." I say politely.

"As everyone in this room is aware, in a week you shall be twenty-five. As it has been ordained has throughout the centuries of our house and it's rule, you will be required to prove you are worthy of commanding my armies. Will you accept the task before you?"

For a second I thought to say no, run away to the surface. The proud look in my father's eyes was the only thing keeping me from actually going through with my poorly thought out plan.

I lower my head in a slow and deliberate nod.

"It will be an honor to carry on the tradition of our house. Glory be to the house of Aeducan." I say what is required of me. The nobles behind me cheer for their new possible army commander. I roll my eyes before I can stop myself. Trian glares, silently warning me to watch my step. Father on the other hand is chuckling. Mine and my father's sense of humor are similar. Trian is somewhat jealous of this fact.

My father holds up his hand. The crowd of nobles fall silent. Man. Now that is neat. "The challenge before you is no simple task. You will lead a group of men, along with Lord Harrowmont." He gestured to his adviser. "into the Deep Roads. There your ability to give comprehensive instructions, and overall leadership skills will be tested."

"Oh super." I mutter softly to myself.

"Should you fail, or should any men die while under your command." His tone suddenly became grave. "You will be left in the Deep Roads where you will likely be overwhelmed by darkspawn."

"No pressure." I sighed. I had known about this, but it still was horrible hearing it come from my own father. "I understand father."

"It is settled then. A week after your birthday then." With that everyone was dismissed.

"I don't envy you, brother." Bhelen said quietly.

"Oh but why not? Doesn't every dwarf dream of the possibility of being some Darkspawn's lunch."

"Only yours brother. Only yours." He said chuckling. He clasp my shoulder giving me a reassuring squeeze before taking his leave. I flashed an impish smile in his direction, before turning my own attention to my father.

After a brief chat with my father, I returned to my room, where my second and best friend Gorim was waiting for me.

"So?" He asked.

"Feel like training?" I asked. At this he laughed.

"Idea of being condemned to the Deep Roads isn't thrilling?"

I shook my head. I walk across the room and grab my Great broadsword. "Not in the least bit."

"Good." Gorim chuckled as he grabbed his own sword. "About time you took this seriously."

"My friend. Prepare to get your ass kicked." I chuckled at Gorim's disgusted groans.

"I should have known this would hardly humble you."

"Yeah. You should have."

* * *

**XXXxxxXXX**

**Deep Roads, Orzammar**

**April 28th 2009**  
**6:00am **

**Sigrun**

"That's enough for today. Let's get back to came and cook up some food." Said Kardol, our leader. The rest of us were only to happy to hear him speak those words. Fighting darkspawn day and night is tedious work, but someone has to take care of this things down here. Might as well be the symbolically dead Legionnaire's dwarves.

I've been symbolically dead now for five years. This is really no different than living in Dusk Town. We fight and do what we need to do in order to survive, just as the Dusters do. Only here they can turn you into broodmothers, or taint your blood if you aren't careful. Oh and we get to eat more often than Dusters. That would be the one welcomed change.

I'm here because I'm a former Duster. Stole from a noble, got caught and wound up in prison. It was my twelfth offense, which meant I was facing a rather lengthy stay. Not something I was looking forward to, but at least it was a roof over my head and the occasional meal (when they remembered to feed me).

One day my guardsmen decided he wanted some...female companionship. Willing or otherwise. I was hardly willing as I found him to be the single most revolting dwarf ever in existence. The bastard got a few good grabs at my breasts in before I slit his throat. After that I was on the shit list of every guardsmen in the royal prison. Lucky me.

The guard commander thought it might be in my best interest to join with the Legion of the dead. I'm already handy with daggers, so why not put those skills to good use. Because I already thought life was too short. Why drag it out. Actually my survival rate with the Legion was only slightly higher than staying in prison.

To be honest, neither option was tempting, but it was a split second decision I was being asked to make. At that moment I realized I'd rather die at the end of a darkspawn's blade, than a guardsmen. Who knew what the guardsmen would do with my body afterwords. Best take my chances in the Deep Roads. There are many downsides to being symbolically dead, but this armor we're given upon joining is a crime against nature. Silver really isn't my color. It's far too bulky and hard to move it. But given enough time, one gets used to moving in bulky armor. The color is another story. Silver makes me cringe.

Sometimes I find myself dreaming of escape. Not that I ever would. But sometimes I find it to be a nice escape. My fellow legionnaires drive me crazy sometimes. Most are so damn serious unless drunk. Which, sadly, rarely happens.

We trudge back to camp bloody, hungry and tired. We didn't lose anyone to the darkspawn today, which was something to celebrate. There would be whiskey flowing freely tonight. It's the one thing we can always afford to buy from merchants passing through the Deep Roads. The Legion has quite the collection of hard liquors going on.

On the way back to camp my best friend, Mischa came up beside me and began speaking of surfacer things again. He's been there and he enjoys talking of the many inventions he's seen. I enjoy hearing about them. Surfacers and the things they come up with are so interesting. Today's subject of choice was something called a cell phone.

"Bullshit." I chuckled as he told me they use them as more than speaking to others.

"I swear it's true. You can play music and start your microwave at home from any place in Thedas." We both chuckled.

"Why would someone want to start their microwave?"  
Micha shrugged. "I don't try to understand the way surfacers think. So long as they keep inventions like that coming, I'm happy."

"Tell me about the telescopes again." I urged. Anxious to hear about seeing stars in the sky. The fact that there was a sky to even see such things was an amazing though. Ancestors but I hope I get to see it some day.

Micha chuckles and shakes his head. "Don't you ever get tired of hearing about that damn thing?"

"Do you get tired of telling me about it."

"Not really."

"Then start taking mister!" So he did.

None of us hear the darkspawn that followed behind us. How the darkspawn suddenly became so stealthy is beyond me.

We were all unprepared and surprised when they sprung into action. One Genlock popped up out of nowhere and tried to stab me in the back. It only misses me by a hair. Had I lagged a second longer I'd most likely be food for some Deep Stalker.

Positioning myself behind the disgusting thing, I stabbed the sodding beast until it eventually slumps down to the ground. Dead as a doornail.

With my own opponent dead, I risk a looking over my shoulder at Micha. I'm shocked to see blood gushing from the wound in his stomach. He is also at great risk of being overwhelmed by a alpha Hurlock. I ran to my friend as fast as my legs could carry me. It felt like I was running in slow motion, like I couldn't get to him fast enough. Damn these short, stubby legs of mine.

Once again I positioned myself behind my target, stabbing madly until the bloody thing lie dead on the ground. Dropping my own daggers I rush to Micha's side. I catch him just before he slumps to the ground. I ease myself to my knees, lowering him with me. In a panic I take off his helmet and fling it off in to the distance. I gasp when I see blood dripping from the corners of his mouth.

I've seen many of my fellow legionnaire's die, but none of them had been my best friend. This is the only excuse I have to offer for the tears that are currently streaming down my face. Micha chuckles at me. The action produces a string of labored coughs, followed by blood.

"Big baby." He wheezes between coughs. I humor him with a chuckle.

"Am not." My voice is quivering with fear. I don't bother offering to take him to a healer. We don't have a healer. What medical supplies we do have won't help with a stabbing wound this deep.

"Yes you are." He struggles to lift up his left hand, so I help him. "Take it." He nods to the ring on his middle finger. "Up until now it's always brought me luck. It's still shinny, so it should keep you ooohing and awwwing for hours on end."

Instead of faking modesty and refusing his offer. I nod and carefully slip it off his finger. "Thank you Micha. I'll cherish it always."

He broke out into a fit of coughs, his body was shaking uncontrollably. Most likely because of all of the massive blood loss. His breathing slowed and gradually stopped all together. My best friend lies dead in my arms.

I barely take notice of the battle around me, as I look into Micha's dead eyes. I reach up and close his eyes, if only because looking into what used to be eyes filled with humor, pains me.

When I do finally notice the clinging of metal around me, I'm filled with anger. Now I have a new reason to hate the darkspawn. Every single one of these sodding bastards will pay for what happened to Micha.

* * *

**XXXxxxXXX**

**Dust Town, Orzammar**

**May 2nd 2009**  
**10:00am**

**Marlya Brosca**

After my day of bashing in heads for that worthless lump of nug shit, Beraht, I'm starved and in dire need of a shower. Neither will be waiting for me in my mother's hovel. Before I head back into Dust Town I sneak into the Common's tavern. No one noticed me as I slip into the bathroom. I use a paper towel, dip it in water from the sink and vigorously scrub away the dried blood on my skin. I don't bother washing my brown duster armor, as it would be pointless task. They'll just get dirty tomorrow anyways.

Sneaking back outside of the tavern is just as easy as sneaking in. Walking through the commons is always a pain in the ass. Nobles, merchants, and all around snobs all sneer at my presence. I ignore them as I always do. When I become something, I'll rub it in their faces that they were once disgusted with my presence. Maybe I'll kill them afterwards.

Killing doesn't bother me as much as it used to. See enough blood it all tends to look alike. Dead dwarves start looking alike as well.

What does bother me is how Beraht treats my sister. I am well aware he has invested a lot of money into her training as one of his many noble hunting whores. Rica tries her best to hide it from me, but I know what she is. The way he speaks down to his "Precious investment" always pisses me off. One day I'll run my blade across his fat neck. But for now, my family is in his debt.

As I enter Dust Town, the smell of waste, rotting flesh and despair fills my nostrils. If I weren't already used to the Dust Town stench, I'd cringe. I do cringe when my mother's hovel comes into view. I know my sister is out attending to her voice lessons that Beraht has set up for her. Leaving my mother and I alone together.

I walk through the door. My mother is sitting in front of our ten inch portable T.V. that started our ever lovely relationship with Beraht. I hope mother thought it was well worth it. I'm sure as long as Beraht keeps her knee deep in piss ale, she'll be happy to sell Rica and I out. Yes. My mother sold my sister and I for booze and a T.V.

"I'm home you miserable waste of air." I yell into her room. It was my normal greeting, that always got a rise out of her.

"You watch your mouth ya snot."

"Or you'll what? Give me the glaring of a lifetime? Notice me shaking with fear." I roll my eyes as I walk past her, and search her room for her stash of food. I find a small bag of chips, she no doubt stole from a child. It's only fitting I steal it back.

"Hey!" She screams. "Those are mine!"

"You're already fat as a fucking pig. I'm saving you the extra calories." I said, as I opened the bag and shoved a chip into my mouth. The sour cream and onion chips were stale, but still better than the rotten nug meat we usual feast upon.

"I'm home." Rica called out before my mother could come back with an insult of her own. My mother makes a grab for the chip bag, I easily dodge her hand.

Rica looks tired as she drops her coat to the floor. My sister is the most beautiful dwarf I know. She was born with flawless white skin, piercing green eyes, long read hair that she always kept in braided buns. She rarely wore make-up. She hardly needed the stuff, but when she did it only emphasized her good looks.

Mother always points out Rica's beauty. She's even quicker to point out how I was beat with an ugly stick. My mother is a real fucking peach.

I'm by no means as beautiful as my sister. Other wise both of us would be Beraht's whores. I keep my hair cropped short and dyed black. My brown eyes are all together unremarkable and set too close together. My mouth is far to thin, my nose too small. My lack of beauty hardly bothers me. I have no interest in romance. I simply want to get us out of Dust Town and away from Beraht.

"Heya sis." I say with a mouth full of chips. I offer the bag to Rica, who, despite her urge to resist, found herself reaching into the bag and stuffing a hand full of chips into her mouth. Sadly it was all the chips in the bag. Oh well. She needs it more than I do.

"Hi Mar." She chirped cheerfully. I eyed her suspiciously, which only made her laugh. "What?"

"Something happened." It wasn't a question.

"Nothing happened." She giggled nervously. I continued to eye her suspiciously. She is a horrible liar. But if she did not want to share her good news with me, that was up to her. At least whatever happened had put her in a good mood.

There was a loud knock on the door. There was only one person I know of who knocks like that. Both of us turned and groaned.

"Fuck." I muttered bitterly as I walked across the room towards the door. Beraht's ugly mug was there when I opened the door. "Well hello Beraht. Can't find anyone else to annoy tonight?" I smiled cheerfully. My smart mouth always gets me in trouble.

"Haha. I have a job for you. Leske is waiting outside for you." He said, as he pushed his way past me and into our hovel.

Ugh. No rest for the wicked.

* * *

**XXXxxxXXX**

**Lowtown (The Hanged man tavern), Kirkwall**

**May 8th 2009 **  
**1:20pm**

**Varric: **

Stories are my business, and believe me when I say I have plenty of them. Being in the Merchants guild gives me plenty of chances to travel, meet new people, and make new...contacts.

Speaking of contacts, I spy one of mine coming up the stairs. Upon closer inspection I notice it's my Ferelden contact. Good. It would be nice to know if what I've been hearing on the news of darkspawn attacks are true, or simply overly exaggerated. If anyone would know, it would defiantly be him. Lad looks as if he's not slept for days. I ask the barmaid to bring two ales. Hopefully that will perk him right up.

I motion for him to take the seat beside me. Whoa. Suddenly I feel like a frikkin' crime boss. That's strange.

"What's the word my man?" I asked calmly. My contact frowns deeply and sighs. "The news is hardly exaggerating." At this he chuckles bitterly.

"If anything, the news has been down playing the amount of attacks. Important people with media connections don't want neighboring countries to think this is a threat we can't handle." I knew by "we" he meant the king's army.

Well this news was a kick in the pants. This would be bad for both of my business. Even though I don't give a nug's flying fart about the merchant end of things. I don't want to place any of my outside contacts in any danger other than what they are already used to.

"If it's worse than the news is reporting does that mean it's really a blight?"

"The Warden's are involved."

"Oh?" Now my interest is peaked. "That would be a yes. Or very close to a yes." I stroke my clean shaven chin thoughtfully. "Well that sure does suck for Ferelden."

"You're telling me."

"If things get to bad you know you always have a room here." I offer. Knowing full well he wont take me up on my offer.

"Thanks boss." He nods. I hate it when they call me boss. Now I really do feel like a crime boss.

"What's going on in the Tevinter?"

He shrugs. "The same old thing. Death and darkspawn. The King is calling for a temporary retreat and bringing all of his men to Ostagar. He hopes to nip the darkspawn threat in the ass before it becomes a full fledged blight. I say it's too late for that, but that's only one man's opinion. He's also calling upon all of the noble houses and their armies for help." He shakes his head.

"Are you going?" I'm fairly sure I already know what the answer will be.

A smirk forms on his face. "Yes. I'll there with my father." He says. I sense a bit of dread in his tone. I'd be feeling the same way. He places the tankard back on the table before he stands.

"Why don't you stay a while."

He shakes his head. "Thank you, but no. I need to get back and help my father prepare his men. If I hear anything new I'll send you word from Highever. Trips like these are a real bitch on the wallet you know."

"Better you than me. Thanks for coming all the way here Cousland." I smile. I think he's rather stupid for wanting to join his father in battle. No sense talking sense into a Ferelden. "Thank your sister for me. Any news she can provide from Tevinter would be helpful."

"She'll be home soon, but I'll let her know in my next letter." He said. "I'll keep in touch Varric."

"Take care Fergus. Have a good trip home. Oh and just so you know they have barf bags in planes now. I suggest you use them." I grinned at his embarrassment. "I know. Gossip is a bitch. Especially when it's true gossip."

We shook hands before he left. So. A blight is coming to Ferelden. Well, looks like Kirkwall is going to become a little crowded. Keep them sodding city guards and templars on their toes. This city could use a bit of excitement. Bring on the blight!


	6. The insanity of humanity

**A/N: So here we have the humans. I do realize I've left out several companions . I'll be giving Morrigan, Sten, Shale and the dog their own in camp chapters later. Right now I just really want to get this story rolling. Next is my Cousland chapter. Since she'll be the leader of this gang she needed a chapter of her own "Before destiny called" chapters. **

**I didn't give Isabela a huge part here because she'll be playing a bigger role later. I just wanted to cover (and even make up) some general information. **

**Thanks to Jinx1983 for correcting painstakingly finding and correcting my errors. And Isabella Monroe for looking for details I might have missed (sorry I almost made you spit out your coffee.) You two are awesome and I don't know what I would do without you two. Thanks to those of you who read, review and favorite this story!**

* * *

**Lothering, Ferelden**

**May 10th 2009**

**9:30 am **

**Leliana: **

Morning service was well under way. There was not an empty seat in the entire chantry. Not surprising given the recent darkspawn attacks on the village. I'm also fairly certain that a good portion of the people here have children fighting in the Ostagar and Tevinter armies. Every prayer counts in times such as these.

Instead of taking my place in the front pew with the other chantry sisters, I stand in a corner near a bookshelf next to Revered Mother Dorothea's chambers. Their snide remarks and condescending snickers will have to wait until after today's service.

One would figure after two years they would simply learn to accept me for me. My views of the Maker and the love He has for all of His children differ from their own. In a chantry where everyone is expected to believe in what they are told and not encouraged to have any thoughts of their own, my views are a bit...blasphemous. Sadly, the outsider state I've been thrown into by most of my peers, both saddens and thrills me. At times I enjoy starting an argument or two. These debates have earned me no friends within the Chantry. Other than Dorothea that is.

Revered Mother Dorothea is standing upon her podium speaking of inner strength, survival and forgiveness. It is the sermon these people need to hear in order to get through another day. I scan the crowd and notice that each and every person here today is hanging on to her every word; finding hope and solace in her message. I admire these people and their strength. After so much loss has been lost to them, they pull together and turn to each other for comfort instead of turning to violence.

After the service came to an end, I, along with many of the other sisters, spoke and listened to as many people as I could. Listening to their stories of loss and heartache. Each story I hear is just as heartbreaking as the last. Parents losing children to the darkspawn, families torn apart. While I can't offer them a blessing, I can offer them a ear and a shoulder to cry on. Sometimes these things are just what a person needs.

It's odd sometimes how much a person can change. The me three years ago would not have hesitated to yell at these people to stop their sniveling and do something about their problems. I'm unsure if this is maturity finally settling in.

After biding a farewell to the woman who lost her child to the darkspawn in the wilds, I set off to find Dorothea. I must speak to her, and tell her of my plan. She'll think I'm crazy. Who here doesn't believe me crazy? Including myself.

I find her in her chamber, sitting in a chair in the middle of the room. She looks tired, but she smiles when she sees me enter the room. I smile back.

"Leliana." She says calmly. "What may I do for you today my dear?"

"I have the most wonderful news." I blurt out in my excitement. The dream itself was interesting and scary, but it's what I found outside afterwards that has me so elated. Dorothea's brow arches in amused curiosity, but says nothing. "I had the most awful dream about darkspawn and darkness."

Dorothea's perplexed expression is expected, but it still manages to make me chuckle.

"Does this dream of yours somehow tie in to your wonderful news?" She asked wearily.

I laugh. "Of course it does." I need to choose my next words very carefully. We may be close, but that will hardly stop Dorothea from sending me to a psych ward if I'm not extremely careful. "The dream felt so real. As if I could reach out, touch everything and it would actually have a solid form. The darkspawn were everywhere, turning everything they touched into something ugly."

"That is hardly surprising." Dorothea muttered.

"I wanted to stop them, but I was powerless in my dream. In the end everything around us was consumed by their darkness and corruption. I never want to feel as powerless as I did in my dream. I know I can help, but that would mean picking up my bow and blades again." In a world filled with guns, tanks and other such fire power, I am a firm believer in simplicity when it comes to weaponry. However; picking up a weapon went very much against my personal vows. I was no sister, but I was in no hurry to rush back into a life of violence and death.

Frowning deeply; Dorothea looked directly into my eyes. "I will not stop you if you wish to fight the darkspawn." No Revered Mother condones violence, but these are unfortunate times that call for extreme measures. She also believes the darkspawn's presence here is a clear sign of the Maker's displeasure with his children. I do not share in this belief. I believe we are being tested. "I don't mean to dash any hopes my dear, but how do you plan on fighting the darkspawn alone?"

I smile down at her. "I did not mean to imply I would be leaving now. I will need to wait for a suitable time." I left out the part where I would need to wait for the woman in my dream to show up in Lothering. I know it will only be a matter of time before she does show. If it sounds crazy to me, I can only imagine how crazy it will sound to her.

"Very well. I will continue to pray and hope you change your mind."

"Thank you Mother." I lower my head as I thank her. "Oh. I almost forgot!" I exclaimed. This had been the reason I brought up my dream in the first place. "After I woke from my nightmare this morning I decided to clear my head and walk around the village. Well, you know that rose bush next the bridge leading out of the city." Dorothea thinks on this for a moment. She nods when she realizes which bush I am speaking of. "It has a bloom." I gushed.

Once again, a perplexed look passed over her face. "How can that be? The plant life around here has all but died."

This is only partially true. Trees continue to grow and Weeds have all but infested the vegetable fields. Any other plant life has all but died. As one of the main farming villages in Ferelden, this is catastrophic. Yet another blow to the village, only this is more financial. It's a worry that takes a back seat to the worry of loved ones.

I motioned for her to follow me. "I would have brought it to you, but I feel it would be wrong cutting such a miracle." She nodded in agreement. I took her to the obviously dead bush. Yet, there was a hint of green on one single branch. Near the tip of the branch was the start of a large bud. It was beginning the process of opening.

I did not tell Revered Mother Dorothea that I saw this as a sign from the Maker. While there was darkness all over the world, it's his way of telling us there are some beautiful things in the world worth saving. Once my dream woman and her group comes to Lothering, I know I will need to go with them. I will need to appear useful. Thanks to my bardly talents, this should not be a hard task to accomplish. Funny really. I used to hate this place, and couldn't wait to get away from the smell of wet dog. In my three years here, I have grown quite fond of Ferelden. I'll be damned if I lose her to a Blight.

"Well now." Mother Dorothea said. Smiling as she inspected the bud. "This is a pleasant surprise."

"My thoughts exactly your Grace." She gave a sardonic snort. She always does when I call her by her proper title. I smile a little at her annoyance.

"Until you find your reason for leaving, it will be your job to make sure no harm comes to this." She gestured to the bud in bloom.

"Of course." I had already planned on doing as much. Until it was time for me to leave that is.

* * *

**Amaranthine Sea**

**May 12th 2009**

**11:00pm **

**Captain Isabela:**

After many, many months out at sea I believe it's time to set ourselves down somewhere. Not permanently or anything, but for a couple weeks at least. Since Ferelden is a hop and a skip away why not land there. The men don't seem overly thrilled, but no one argued either. After reminding them of the Pearl in Denerim, the crew appeared to think it was a rather grand idea. I was inclined to agree with their enthusiasm. The thought of a new bed mate for myself was enough to put me in a better mood.

I suppose I should still be mourning my husband. I find that hard to do as I never liked the greasy bastard. I'm sure he would be feeling the same way had our roles been reversed, and I was the one laying face down in a ditch with my throat cut from ear to ear. We weren't exactly brought together under the best of circumstances.

My own mother sold me off to the slime of a man against my will. This would be enough to put a damper on any marriage. My mother...oh my dear old mummy was the greediest of bitches. Can't say I'm sad she's dead. Heart attack from what I hear. Too good of a death for her, but that's just my personal opinion. I've never been able to prove it, but I believe she killed my father in order to collect on his life insurance. Being she didn't appear too broken up over him dying, I find this completely plausible.

We've never had a typical mother/daughter relationship. She hadn't liked me since I was able to form my own opinions, which made selling me off that much easier. The only time she ever spoke to me was when she wanted me to know how daft and useless I was. Sometimes she would hit me, but usually that too was more effort than she had. The morning she sold me off was the morning I had planned on running away from home. The sneaky bitch beat me to the punch.

He was by no means attractive. Women can deny all they want, but looks do matter. Not even a rat would have found this one suitable. His greasy black hair, shit brown eyes (if only to match his personality), pox markings all over his face and body (my mother sure does know how to pick'em), always had an excuse ready. I'm sure it's the reason he was offed. Although I'll never be sure. I really don't care to be sure.

There were two good things to come from my oppressive three years of marriage. The beautiful open sea and my love of my husband's ship; Siren's Call. Well, actually, It's my ship now. She's beautiful; the oddly elusive perfect woman. She sails where I tell her to, listens to my every whim and does everything in her power to please me.

At first, my husband's crew was reluctant to follow my lead. Siting I would be no better Captain or a leader than my husband. They also believed I'd sleep with any of them, given my lover was my husband's killer. How they came to this conclusion is beyond me, but I was quick to set them straight. Proving to them I'm in possession of a sharp mind, and quick with a blade. It's been nine months and no one has spoken up against me. I believe I've proven myself not to be my husband, and a capable leader. Sometimes I'm a leader with...benefits. A secluded crew has to get it's pleasures where it can when no brothel is nearby. I believe it works out for all aboard.

I look around the deck at my poor haggard looking men. They are speaking of what (and whom) they will be doing as soon as we land at port. I am quick to join in this conversation. They all assume I'm going to cheat some poor bastard out of his money at poker. They would be completely right. There is always some fool who's willing to play a hand of five card draw.

We're all excited at the prospect of setting foot on land again. This is a long, over due and well deserved break. Nothing like a land break to realize how wonderful the sea is. We'll start missing it in no time.

With any luck we should land in the Amaranthine port tomorrow afternoon. Hopefully; there will be enough going on in Ferelden to keep us busy, and not too overly bored. We sailors tend to bore quite easily.

* * *

**Circle of Magi, Ferelden**

**May 20th 2009**

**5:00pm**

**Cullen:**

Sometimes mages scare the shit out of me. I can't imagine how difficult it must be to have all that power, yet keep it under control. Sometimes I see the way the other templars treat these mages and think to myself "How could they treat these people as monsters. As if these people were mere specks of dirt on their shoes." Other times I see some mage take a demon into themselves and I can completely understand why my brothers treat them as they do.

There is no denying that tension is running high between us templars and mages. It has and forever will be an eternal struggle for both sides. Unfortunately; some mages turn to forbidden magic and we're forced to...permanently neutralize them.

We templars aren't allowed to let personal feelings or judgment get in the way of our duty. However; whenever I see Ms Amell, all of the rules that have been drilled into my head vanishes. Those big blue eyes that have such a spark of happiness in them. I enjoy watching those red lips curve and twitch when she's about to smile. Oh , Maker and her smile. It's so contagious, I find myself smiling right along with her. Her short brownish/blondish hair that I find I want to run my fingers through. How could someone so beautiful, sweet and smart be a potential abomination? I refuse to believe it.

How my fellow templars would laugh if they ever found out how I truly feel about Pamela. I'm sure it's obvious to all with eyes I have feelings for her, but no one knows the extent of them. I prefer to keep it that way. I don't enjoy being laughed at.

We're also forbidden to have any kind of relations with mages. This rule doesn't stop most of the templars. Some force mages into having...relations, out of loneliness, spite and desperation. I find this to be repulsive. Although I have to admit that sometimes I daydream of forcefully kissing Ms Amell, but that's all. In my daydreams she never seems to mind.

I'm currently guarding the lower level library. It's a guard duty I'm always more than happy to volunteer for. I look around and am shocked Ms Amell isn't here. She must be in the second floor library. Just my luck. She and that friend of hers, Surana I believe is his name. Have completed their harrowing, which makes the second floor library completely available now. Damn. I knew I picked the wrong shift.

"Have you heard the latest?" I over hear one female apprentice say excitedly to the other. The apprentice with the exciting news looks over her shoulder at me. I made it appear as if I'm not listening, by staring straight ahead at the books in front of me. She must think I'm too good for their conversation and continues speaking. "I hear Jordan and Pamela helped that blood mage, Jowan escape."

"No way. Wormy?"

"Yes, and get this. A Grey Warden is here and conscripted both of them before Knight-Commander Greagoir could throw them into the dungeons."

The other female apprentice shook her head disbelieving what she heard."Even if Jowan is one of her best friend, I don't see Pamela doing anything like that. Jordan on the other hand..." The two apprentices continued to speak on how unbelievable this gossip was.

So not to bring attention to myself, I calmly walked up the stairs towards the second floor library. Surely she would be there, proving what I had just heard to be gossip.

We literally ran into one another the moment I walked through the doors of the second floor. She squeaked in surprise as she fell backwards. I was startled but quickly recovered and helped Ms Amell to her feet.

"I..I'm S...sorry about that." Ugh! Again with the stuttering. I really wish I could stop, but being around her makes me so damn nervous. She takes hold of my offered hand and I pull her up to her feet.

"No harm done. Actually I'm glad I ran into you. Well, not glad I really ran into you, that actually kind of hurt. You Templars need to wear more practical armor." She blushed and looked down at the floor, embarrassed. I'm so nervous I can't even laugh, even though I know it's kind of funny. "I suppose for your line of work that is practical armor." She clears her throat. "So, yes, I've been looking for you."

"R...really? I've been looking..umm...I...I've been around." Get a grip man! Just go on ahead and ask her if she's really leaving the circle. I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. I only manage to look like a fish out of water. Instead of laughing at my inability to speak, she stares sadly up at me.

"I should have known everyone would be talking about it by now." She sighed.

"Is it true?" I asked. Hopeful the answer would be no. The sadness in her eyes told me it was true.

"Partially. The First-Enchanter asked Jordan and I to help Jowan and his girlfriend escape from the circle. No one knew he was dabbling in blood magic, else I never would have agreed to help that son of a bitch." She said with much conviction. There was dark fury in her eyes that left me with little doubt I was being told the truth. "Sorry. I just don't like being lied to."

"I don't k...know anyone who d...does." I should be saying something comforting, but I could barely get that out.

"The Knight-Commander didn't believe that both of us had been so oblivious to Jowan's blood magedom." At this I break a smile. Her propensity to make up words that wouldn't otherwise exist always manages to make me chuckle. "If the Warden hadn't stepped in and conscripted both Jordan and I, the two of us would be waiting out our days in the dungeon." She said.

"A...are you scared?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little scared." She admitted shyly. "I could do some good. Fighting darkspawn is one way to redeem myself."

I wanted to tell her that it sounded to me like she had no reason to redeem herself. If anything it should be Jowan going to Ostagar in her place. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, she began speaking again.

"Since I'm leaving soon I wanted to...I mean...I" She trailed nervously, obviously at a loss for words. This stuttering on her part was new. Could I be making her nervous? I wasn't making her nervous a second ago. What's going on here! I've never made anyone, much less a woman nervous. I look at her hands and notice they are shaking. Now I'm really nervous.

After a huge deep breath. She looks me square in the eyes "I wanted you to know that I like you. A lot. I've liked you for seven years. I know templars and mages are supposed to be strictly professional with one another, and I'm sorry this makes you uncomfortable but I couldn't leave without you knowing how I feel about you."

I'm so shocked that I'm sure a feather would knocked me over. My mouth falls open and closed as if I'm a fish out of water. Good Maker, she likes me? My mind flashed back to every conversation I could remember having with her. Suddenly all of the playful jests, "inadvertent" arm touching, and laughing at my bad jokes all made sense. How dense am I not to pick up on it sooner. Wait! If I had no idea she liked me, does this mean she has no idea that I like her?

"You always listen to my boring book babbling, even going as far as to actually begin reading what I was speaking of." I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. She's seen me do that? "You're fun to talk to, funny, incredibly kind, unbelievably handsome. I'm sorry it took my going away to tell you how I feel. I should have told you of my feeling sooner, but I was...scared." With each compliment she pays me makes my face that much hotter with embarrassment.

We're beginning to draw a crowd of curious mages and templars alike, as Ms Amell confession was rather loud. At the moment I don't care about the flack I'll receive from my fellow brothers, or the hushed whispers of the gossip driven mages as I pass them by in the halls. I'm far too happy, and surprised to care about any of that.

As I open my mouth to tell her all of the things I've wanted to tell her since I've come to know and speak with her. Nothing came out of my mouth. It was also at this moment someone walked up behind Ms Amell, cleared his throat loudly and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you ready Ms. Amell?" Asked the gruff looking man in shinny silver armor. I knew just by looking at him that this man was the Grey Warden that Pamela had spoke of. He was smiling down at the flushed mage. I'm not sure if he had heard the commotion.

Pamela looked at me with pleading eyes, as if she wanted me to save her from whatever fate awaited her. Defeated she looked back at the Warden and sighed.

"It won't take me long to pack." She looked back at me again, smiling sadly. She looked as if she wanted to say more, but realized the rather sizable crowed that had formed around us. Instead of speaking, she turned on her heels and walked off towards her room on the third floor.

Instead of running after her, like I should have, I yelled at everyone around me to mind their business. I guess I was threatening enough to where they felt it was in their best interest to do as I said. First time for everything I suppose. The Warden gave me the oddest look. He followed it up by a wink before walking after Pamela. What a weird old bastard.

Taking my place back in the first floor library, I thought on the events that had just played out in my head, and couldn't help but smile. I'm sure I looked doofy to those around me, but I didn't care. I had a beautiful woman who likes me. I didn't get to tell her how I felt, which does piss me off a bit.

Thank the Maker for email.

* * *

**Redcliffe Chantry, Ferelden**

**June 4th 2009**

**7:45 am**

**Alistair:**

"Get up you useless piece of crap!" The Knight-Commander yelled in my ear. I'm groan loudly in protest before I look up at see my Commander, glaring at me with a familiar intense dislike. He leans a little closer to my ear, which makes me vastly uncomfortable. He knows it does, but I'm too tired to do much about it. "Today is the big day, Assiturd." I could hear the grin in his voice. This is what he's called me every single day since I've been here. I think it's freaking hilarious.

I sat up in my bed and made sure to yawn as loud as I could before I answer. At least I got him to back up a few feet. Thank you morning breath. "Yeah." I croak. "About that. I'm not really feeling all that good today. Can I call in sick?" Bringing my hand up to my mouth I force several dry coughs.

The Knight-Commander continues to glare at me. My hands fall limply beside my legs. Damn! Time for a different approach.

"I need to take my goldfish to the vet. He hasn't been looking too well as of late and I'm really concerned."

"You don't have a goldfish." He states dryly. I assumed that one wouldn't work anyways.

"Alright." This is followed up by a heavy sigh. "I'll level with you.

"What? You mean for a change."

I ignore his attempt at wit. "I don't want to be a templar. What I really want to be is a dancer. The bright lights, shinny outfits." I sigh dreamily. "Why won't you just let me live my dream."

At this my Commander rolls his eyes. "I've overheard you telling the other recruits how much you loath dancing." He smirked.

Damn! Who knew he actually listened or bothered to listen when I spoke, which happens very rarely.

"Fine, fine. I'm getting up." I whined as I pushed the covers away and dressed in my ceremonial uniform. The neatly ironed black pants were creased down the middle to give a look as if they hadn't been worn by thousands of other templars trainees.

Slipping into my white dress shirt, and my hideous yellow and red dress coat, I begrudgingly follow my commander into the main hall with the other sorry sods who were far more willing than I to give their freedom and lives over to the chantry. I've been dreading the day I become a full-fledged templar. I happen to like mages, I don't want to spend my life hunting them down and dragging them back to the Circle tower. I don't much like the tower either.

Yet, here I am. Getting ready to become a ever faithful slave to the chantry. A pity really. I've been watching the news on the telly and I think I'd be doing some good in Ostagar or Tevinter. Joining the army and killing some darkspawn would be more helpful now than hunting down apostates and blood mages. Sometimes I dream about guns and what it would feel like to shoot a darkspawn in the head.

I suppose it goes to prove what I want for myself doesn't really matter. This is something I should be used to, I suppose.

"Brothers and sisters." Begins the proud Grand Cleric. She's an old broad with wrinkles a plenty all over her face. Sometimes I sit here in my pew counting how many wrinkles she actually has on her face alone. I never get past sixty-three. Maybe I should start smaller and work from the neck up. That should keep me busy. In fact I believe I'll start counting right now.

The counting of wrinkles keeps me busy well through her boring twenty minute "You all worked hard to make it to this point," bullshit speech. I even manage to make it past my own personal record of sixty-three. I am truly amazed with my keen eyesight and counting ability.

Then something strange happened. There was a man (I've seen him around the chantry several times before), who burst through the front doors. He marches up the aisle, stops before the Grand Cleric and speaks to her quietly. They both glance at me, which, in turn, raises the curiosity of those around me, now they are all looking at me as well. Oh, Maker's ass!

"Absolutely not." The Grand Cleric yells in the man's face. "He was given to us and here he shall remain."

The man remains calm in both his demeanor and voice. "Then you will not let him go willingly?" He asks. He's pointing at me. Holy shit! What is going on here.

"Dude. What's going on?" Asks the recruit next to me. "Who wears armor like that anymore but templars?"

"Beats me." I whisper back.

"No. This is where he belongs and you know it." The Grand Cleric's eyes were furious, her arms flaying about wildly.

The man merely smiled at her. "Fine." He said before turning on his heels. He stopped before me and smiled. "Alistair. I know you don't know me, but I have been watching you over the years. I believe your talents would do my order and our fight against the darkspawn a world of good. Thus, I offer you a place in the Grey Wardens."

"HOLY SHIT!" My mind nearly exploded with excitement. The Grey Wardens want me? My sword skills aren't that good.

"I said no!" The Grand Cleric yells acidly. The Warden calmly looks over his shoulder at the furious woman.

"Then I conscript this young man into the Grey Wardens." He turned his head back to me.

"How can I say no to that." I said as I jumped from my seat. "Let's go."

"Alistair! You belong here. If you go with him you'll live to regret it for the rest of your days." The Grand Cleric warned.

I looked over at the fuming woman and smiled. "I somehow doubt it." I turned back to the Warden, still wearing a smile. "Lead the way."

"Thank you Alistair." He took a step back, making room so I could move from my seat. The Chantry was dead silent, not even the Grand Cleric said anything as I left the Chantry that had been my home for the past nineteen years .

We walked for a time without saying anything. Finally, on our way out of the Redcliffe gates I could no longer stand the silence. "Would you mind telling me who you are?" I asked my savior.

He chuckled. "I apologize for my lack of an introduction. I am Duncan of the Grey Wardens."

"Well Duncan. Instead of you thanking me, I believe I should be thanking you."

"I know you weren't happy there." Was that remorse I saw. No. It couldn't be. What would he have to be sorry about.

"Which is why I'm thanking you." I grinned. "Awesome. Now I get to kill some darkspawn."

At this Duncan laughed, as did I.

Happy days for me. Not only am I not a templar, but now I get to fight darkspawn too! Kick ass!


	7. Jessica

**A/N: **Alright smut monkeys. You have something to look forward to in this chapter. Smut ahoy!

I appologize in advance if any of my military observations are wrong. If any of you spot anything feel free to shoot me a PM and I'll correct it straight away.

Thank you to Jinx1983 for pain painstakingly going through this chapter and correcting my mistakes. Thus making this chapter readable to all.

Thank you to the Empress of Smut, Isabella Monroe. My smut would have been horrid if I didn't have her help and eye for detail.

Thanks to all who favorite, review and read. You all are full of Xtreme awesomeness!

* * *

**Solas, Tevinter Imperium**  
**October 31st 2009**  
**4:00pm**

**Major Jessica Cousland:**

After spending much of the day hiking up the side of a mountain I was ready to call it a day. As per usual this is when I finally find the perfect place to set up my equipment. I was still covered by overgrown grass and trees, but the ledge I have found gives me a perfect view of a large Darkspawn encampment below.

First I need to unpack and resize my L115A3 sniper rifle. No assembly is necessary since the gun is able to adjust in length. I only need to add the suppressor, bipod, and clips. It takes all of twenty minutes. After I'm done I take a moment to admire the polished black metal and the smooth wood finish running down the side of the rifle. It's a thing of beauty. Even though it's last years model, I couldn't imagine owning any other weapon.

With my rifle in one hand and binoculars in the other, I get on my stomach; crawling towards the ledge. I look down below. Looking through the binoculars I can see the encampment is crawling with Hurlocks, Genlocks and Emissaries. Taking out the Emissaries first would be the wise thing to do as they have the advantage of ranged spells on their side. I would let the well hidden camouflaged soldiers nearby deal with the rest and help them if and when they need me.

I set down my binoculars on the ground beside me. Bringing up the rifle, I bend my head slightly and look through my rifle's scope. I can clearly see several Hurlocks fighting amongst themselves. Good. Let them kill each other, this gives the ground troops one less fucking darkspawn to kill.

I slowly and methodically move my gun to the right, looking for the Emissary I had spotted earlier. It did not take me long to find him and at least fourteen of his friends. They stood together on the far side of the encampment away from the other darkspawn soldiers.

Sometimes my job involves observing the different darkspawn. I must say that Emissaries are such odd beasts. They are more than happy to fight along side other darkspawn, but once they are in a camp such as this, Emissaries tend to keep to their own kind. I have a few soldiers under my command I'd like to see follow the same protocol.

I slide back the bolt in order to load the firing chamber. The soft click lets me know it's loaded and ready to fire. I set up my shot, aiming for the beast's head before I slip my finger around the trigger and pull. The bullet rips through the Emissary's temple. The reminisce of the beast's head was splattered all over his comrades, leaving them in a state of confusion and awkward alertness. I snap back the bolt, line up my next target and fire. I take down three more before I have to switch out clips. By then the encampment is in a furious uproar.

Upon taking out some of the larger threat, the ground troops swarm into the camp. Taking out the Hurlocks and Genlocks. I reload in order to take out as many of the remaining Emissaries as I can. Although; finding them in the chaos is quite the task.

I take out five more of the beasts, leaving me with no more clips. With their numbers down to a manageable level, the four remaining should be no problem for the ground troops. I can begin packing my things. I grumble and cursed under my breath about spending half a day hiking only to spend twenty minutes picking off something that could have just been met head on. In the long run it helped save lives, but right now I'm not looking into the grand scheme of things. I'm pissed off.

I hear leaves crunching under heavy footsteps, which stopped me from grumbling. I listen to the crunching of dead grass and leaves. The fast paced footsteps are defiantly coming my way. I lay my pack onto the ground, slowly reach in and pull out my emergency .38mm I keep for such occasions. I release the safety and quietly cock the firing chamber. I slowly raise to my feet.

I hate to admit it, but I'm a bit scared being up here all alone. Yes. Even a semi-leader of men is scared of isolation. I don't need to wait long before my unseen foe is behind me. Before whatever is behind me can act, I quickly whip my body around, aiming my .38 at the figures head. I freeze. Not voluntary mind you, it's because of the spell this grinning jackass in front of me cast. I suppose that's a good thing given I was just about ready to blow his fucking head away.

"Release me." I order sternly. He continues to grin back at me, which irritates me to no end.

"As you command, Major." He said. Waving his hands in the air in front of his face, he removes the spell and I find myself once again mobile. I click the safety on my gun before I throw it to the ground. I quickly close the gap between us. I have every intention of punching the hell out of that pretty face of his. Who the hell does he think he is? If I were completely vengeful I'd tell everyone on base he's not just any soldier, but a mage.

Before I can even so much as ball up my hand into a fist. He lifts me off of the ground by my waist, slams me against a nearby tree and furiously claims my lips with his own. Maker but I swear there is magic in this man's kiss, there is simply no other explanation for my addiction to his kisses. Damn bloody mage and his unbelievably amazing kisses.

I slide my arms around his neck and wrap my legs around his waist . Our kiss is urgent and angry, We needs to feel the warmth of our bodies against each other. I graze his lower lip with my teeth, knowing full well I'm only bringing on trouble.

With my legs wrapped around his waist he's able to move his hands, while keeping my body pinned to the tree behind me with his own body weight. He breaks off our kiss long enough to forcefully pull the shirt over my head. A wicked grin spreads across his lips as he easily removes my bra. He dips his head down to my breasts, taking my right nipple into his mouth. His teeth softly grazes, while his tongue swirling and teasing my erect nipple. I gasp as he lavishes attention to each of my breasts. He raises his head, I am hardly surprised to see him smirking. He's no doubt pleased with himself.

"I need you. Now." I beg. His grin spreads even wider. The attention of his lips are once again on my own. His hands are busy slipping off my pants. They give him little problem as they lack any buttons. My pants slide far enough down my legs to where they would not hinder him in the slightest. I can hear the sounds of his belt being unbuckled. He effortlessly removes his pants. . One handed no less. Even I was a bit impressed.

An unspoken challenge passes between us as we stare into each others lust filled eyes. I know it's a challenge he's fully prepared to win, which was completely fine by me. This was one battle I would enjoy losing. Actually neither of us lose per-say. Gloating rights are up for grabs at this point. I'm not avoid letting someone else take command and he does it so very well. But I'm not about to tell him that as it would go straight to his head.

I gasp when his fingers begin to stroke my folds. He slides two fingers deep inside of me. His fingers send vibrations of pleasure down my side. They twirl, stroke and thrust deep inside of me.

"Oh Maker!" I yell. "Now." I demand. I hear him chuckle. I gasp loudly when he thrust his fingers inside of me one last time. Pulling his fingers from inside of me, he sets himself up to enter me. I feel the tip of his member rub against my wet entry. I moan in anticipation.

"As you command." He says coyly.

I started to say something seductively witty, before I can his fingers dig into my hips as he swiftly enters and fills me swiftly. No man should naturally be this huge. His entry leaves me somewhere between pleasure and pain. I love the feeling his entry brings. It leaves me only capable of moaning and muttering incoherent words.

His thrust are unrelentingly hard and unyielding. My finger nails dig into his back with every heavenly thrust. A throaty moan escapes his lips as my legs are wrapped tightly in hopes to bring him deeper inside of me. I hardly comprehend his pleasure, all I can think about is bringing him deep inside of me, I want him to completely possess my body, to own me. My hips buck against his, trying hard to matching his wickedly fast pace. Both of us know our release will come sooner if we continue at this pace, neither of us care.

The tree I'm pinned to is uncomfortable, but I hardly notice, as his thrusts become harder. My groans and screams are what drive him. He wants me to scream, wants to be the cause of my pleasure. I feel my immanent release nearing (it never takes very long). I break away from his lips and rest my head against his neck. Whimpering and moaning softly. I constrict around him, and move quickly down his hardness. He moans and rolls his eyes back in pleasure. I smirk.

My release sends quakes and shivers across my entire body. I see white lights form before my eyes, my brain explodes in pleasure. I bring my head up from his neck and against the tree behind me as I arch my body against his. I have no control over my quivering legs, yet I want to keep them where they are hoping to bring more of him into my wetness.

"Trent." I scream. My body convulsing and shivering in pleasure.

Far too soon the overwhelming waves of pleasure end. He's still thrusting inside me. Despite my own exhaustion I match the speed of his thrusts exactly. I slide down his length and he thrust upwards inside of me. His head dips towards my neck and groans. A wicked smirk plays over my lips as constrict my warmth around him again.

"Oh good Maker woman!" He groans against my neck. I feel his body begin to spasm, his breaths are raspy and a high pitched moan escapes from his throat as waves of ecstasy make his body quake against mine. When his release ends his head falls to my breasts. Automatically I reach up and run my fingers through his raven black hair.

For a moment we stand breathless. Slowly he lowers me to the ground. I don't have enough energy to stand on my own two feet. I fall to my knees gasping for air.

I look up and watch as he pulls his pants up. My brow shoot up curiously.

"Do you often make a habit of wearing a thong?" I mused.

"What?" He squeaked defensively. He yanks up his bright yellow thong. He adjusts everything so they are in place. Man. I wish I could unsee that. "I find them comfortable."

I snort and roll my eyes. "If you meant to say constricting then I won't argue with that."

He wiggles his brows at me. "It's what makes them so comfortable." Again I roll my eyes and groan in disgust. He laughs at my reaction as he dresses himself.

Since I'm on the ground I might as well get myself dressed. I find my black t-shirt crumbled on the ground. I dust off the dirt before slipping it over my head and straightening it out over my curves, few as they may be.

I'm not large or anything. My eight years in the army has helped me get rid of any left over chocolate induced love handles. I'm just...Average. Not too big and not too small. I'm comfortable where I am body wise.

Trent on the other hand. How the hell is a mage so damned muscular? His washboard abs, bulging biceps, and finely toned legs throw out every weakling mage stereotype out the proverbial window. His black hair awkwardly stops above his ears thanks to the required buzz cut. His mission is to grow it out past his shoulders. His eyes are like two beautiful shimmering emeralds. The vicious looking cut across his pointed nose is healed, but will most likely remain there for the rest of his days. He doesn't complain about it. He thinks it makes him look tough. Which is important when one is trying hard to blend in with soldiers.

I asked him long ago why he didn't just let everyone know he's a mage. He told me he had wanted to join the army since he was a boy. The fact that the army does not allow mages to join put a bit of a winkle in his plan. He worked hard to keep his magic under control and trained daily with his brother at the local firing range since he was fifteen. He said being in the army would at least make him feel as if he were doing something to help all of Ferelden. It sure beat being sent to the circle. I admire his determination and courage, but find his reasoning unbelievably stupid.

He lends me his hand and helps me off the ground. I dust the dirt from my bottom before pulling up my pants.

"You're on leave starting tomorrow." He smiles. I sigh and nod.

Not that I'm dreading going home or anything. I've missed my family more than I can express. However; the transition from the battlefield to civilian life it a hard one. By the time I get back into the swing of things around the castle it's time for me to leave again.

"Lucky you." He sighs. "Tomorrow my unit is being shipped back to Ostagar."

I look at him in utter surprise. "Really? Did they tell you this morning?" He nods. "Bummer."

"I know huh? I was just starting to like it here." At this we both snort and roll our eyes. "I don't think Ostagar will be too bad. Hopefully I won't run into my brother. Knowing that little twirp he'll blow my cover out of spite."

My brow shot up. "You always make your bother sound like some kind of ogre."

He chuckles and shakes his head. "No. No. We've just never been very close. He dislikes me because it's in my nature to take charge. Since he's a human it's assumed the Maker gave him the short end of the stick and got our personalities mixed up."

I chuckle. "I'd like to meet him some day."

"After all of my stories and you still want to meet him?"

"Do you have a problem with that Corporal?" I say.

The corners of his mouth twitch. He grabs hold on my arm and pulls me against his body. His mouth his inches away from my own.

"You know what pulling rank does to me." He whispers softly against my lips. My body shudders at the sound of his low, erotic tone.

I smile and nod. "I'll write to General Loghain and let him know to watch what he says around you."

Trent pulls away from me laughing.

"Grab your pack Major ass. I'm to escort you back to the camp." I did as he asked.

Hiking back down the hill was far easier than hiking up the fucking thing. It's to be expected I suppose, but annoying nevertheless. Trent has a hold of my hand so I don't slip and fall. It's an unnecessary measure, but it makes me feel all...girly. Even an army girl enjoys feeling all couplish once in a while.

We let go of each others hand once we enter camp. Since I'm his superior officer out relationship his frowned upon. Which is why we've kept our relationship a secret for three years.

I turn to him, my face passive. His features mirror my own. "Thank you Corporal." I say as I salute him. Completely unnecessary, but I do it for show. He gets a kick out of it.

"Yes ma'am Major Cousland. Rest well." He returns my salute. He looks around to make sure no one is watching closely before winking at me.

"You too Corporal Hawke." We say before disappearing into our respective tents for the night.

* * *

November 1st, 2009

**7:30 am**

The next morning Trent and I meet up secretly for our heart felt goodbye before we are to leave. Yes. We'll be in the same country, but miles apart. I'm hoping I'll be needed in Ostagar, or at the very least I hope father will be. He can request my assistance since I'm experienced in combat. The military wouldn't refuse the request of a Teyrn.

We promise to email and call one another as often as time allows. Neither of us cry, but we are sad to leave each others company. I wrap my arms around his neck and bring my lips upon his. The kiss is tender and sad. I carefully pull away as I know I'll cry if I continue.

"You know I love you kid." He smirks. I smirk as well. It's what he's called me since we were introduced five years ago. I've learned to live with the nickname.

"I love you too." I have no witty nickname for him. I might have to think of one while I'm on leave. If I get super bored that is exactly what I'll do. He has gone far too long without one.

Trent boards the waiting plane with the rest of his unit in tow.

I turn and leave for my own plane that is waiting to take those of us on leave back to Ferelden. It's an nine hour flight to D.I.A (Denerim international airport), which makes me nervous. Thank the Maker I have my iphone and _Angry Birds_to keep me from thinking about flying

* * *

Denerim, Ferelden

**4:55pm**

I arrive safe and sound in Denerim. Much to my surprise my parents are waiting for me just outside of the security gate. I smile widely, drop my bags, run to them and wrap an arm around each of them. My mother is in tears; my father smiling proudly. It's been a year and a half since I've been home. That is a year and a half too long in my opinion.

"It's good to see you pup." My father beams. "Stand back and let me get a look at you." I do as I'm asked. I hear my mother gasp. Oh Maker's asshole. Here comes a years worth of over mothering.

"Andraste's blood pup! Do they even feed you over seas?"

I chuckle and nod. "They feed us Mother. Just not as well as Nan does, and not half as good." I said. Hoping she picked up on what I was really trying to say. She did.

"Well then we must leave right away." She locked her arm around my own, urging me to follow. My father kept up with our speed walking. He's rather sprite for an old man.

I only have one bag to clame. After twenty minutes of waiting it finally came around on the belt. My parents limo was waiting out by the curve. Their driver, Gerald, was quick to retrieve my bag from my hand and place it in the trunk.

"Thank you Gerald." I grinned.

"It's good to see you again my Lady." He said returning my grin.

I sat next to my father in the car. My mother sat across from us on her phone. She was calling Nan back at the castle. No doubt to place an order for a pig, ham and donuts. I hope it's donut buffet. How I've missed those deep fried treats of wonderment.

"Pup. I have something I need to tell you?"

Turning to my father, I see the frown. Red flags and sirens are blaring in my head. "Yes father?" I urge.

"In two days your brother and I will be joining Arl Howe in Ostagar." I force my face to remain neutral, but it took some effort. "I need you to stay at the castle and take care of things while we are away." Now I was pissed off.

"But father. I can help you better in..." I started to argue, but my father held up his hand.

"No pup. You've dealt with enough war to last a lifetime. I need you to take care of business within the castle. You've always been good with the other nobles."

While that is very true, it still isn't a reason to leave me behind.

"I won't have you in yet another battlefield." Added my mother. "I was worried sick about you every day you were away."

"What about Fergus?"

"What about him?" My father counters. I'm the one in the army and my brother is the one who gets to defend the land. Well that's just super. It's only because he's older and a man. My father saw this argument coming from a mile away. "Don't even start on that pup. I could leave Fergus behind, but you know damn well he's horrible with business deals, and the nobles."

"Yes." I grumble. "Because that is what's REALLY important here."

"On a somewhat related note." My father said, wanting to steer the conversation away from the sexism direction. "We have a unexpected visitor you might find interesting."

"Super." I grumble. Still angry.

"His name is Duncan." I glance out of the corner of my eye and see my father smirking. "Grey Warden-Commander Duncan." He added slyly.

I perked. "Interesting."

"Don't get any ideas. I already allowed you to join the army. That is where I draw the line." My father said.

"Agreed." Added my mother.

I merely smirked. "_We'll see about that." _I deviously thought to myself.

"You may speak with him. Nothing more." My mother demanded.

I nodded absently. "Sure."

In my head I was already trying to think up ways to prove my worth to the Warden-Commander of Ferelden.


	8. Jessica  Trent  Cailan

**A/N: My apologies to those of you who are waiting for the last Chapter of Royal Consequences. After much brain scratching, outlining, detail outlining, brain storming with Jinxycat and pulling out my own hair in frustration I decided I needed to write something light and fun. **

**There isn't a whole lot to say about this chapter. It takes place after the events of Highever. I didn't write out that whole bit because it's been done to death and we all know what happens. **

**A big huge thanks to my wonderfully awesome Beta Jinx1983, for her eagle eye and making this chapter readable. You are awesome! A equally huge thank you goes to Isabella Monroe. For taking the time out of her own busy writing schedule and go over my little story. An even bigger thanks to all of you who read this silly story of mine.**

* * *

**XXxxxXX**

**Highever Forest**

**November 5th, 2009**

**7:00 am**

**Jessica:**

Survival instinct has overpowered the guilt and shock of losing my family, my friends and my home. How does one cope with leaving their parents to certain death? I hardly had time to say my goodbyes before Arl Howe's men broke down the kitchen door.

The Warden-Commander and I have been weaving our way through the Highever woods for the better part of the night. We've been staying to the woods, as the Arl's men have most of Highever surrounded. This, of course, makes escape slightly difficult but, not impossible. Duncan seems to have an uncanny ability to find unmarked paths.

The more I think about Highever, the stronger the overwhelming urge is to find Rendon Howe and bash his fucking skull in with a blunt object becomes. The only thing stopping me is my lack of intel. And a blunt object. I know he's not in Highever with his men. He left earlier in the day due to "unseen complications". Ha! Chances are he's sitting in his throne room in Amaranthine sipping wine and celebrating his newly commandeered title.

Eventually, reality sets in. One army sniper against the army of guardsmen of a paranoid Arl? I don't believe the odds of my survival would be in my favor. I am (for the most part) a patient person, waiting is part of my job description. I'll simply have to be content with being a snake in the grass... For now.

Duncan keeps himself several paces ahead of me. In order to keep my mind else where, I find myself admiring his weapons. He is armed with little more than a dagger, a long-sword and a rather expensive looking shield. But, he is skilled with all three weapons. I find his choice in weaponry odd to say the least. In this day and age where guns are far more practical, his skills lies with such primitive weapons. Although the notion of wielding a blade has a sexy almost romantic feel to it... for a time period long gone.

Slowly slightly, he glances back over his shoulder at me. "Would you like to stop and rest?" My mind and legs both scream yes, but my determination to get as far away from my decimated home is stronger than my tired limbs. Ignoring my better judgment, I shake my head. Duncan nodded and continued to lead the way.

"How long have you been a Grey Warden?" I asked. I found myself wanting to know more about the Warden-Commander. Not just because he would soon be my Commander, but he has a mystery around him just begging to be prodded.

"Far longer than you've been alive." He chuckled. I snort and roll my eyes. The typical annoyingly evasive answer. I thought only we women were sensitive about numbers, ages, and years. I smirk a little, as I do whenever I touch a nerve with anyone.

The sound of his chuckling makes me smile before I can stop myself. I decided on a different approach. "Have you been a Warden since the days of humans living in caves? Or since the original Woodstock?" Again he chuckled.

"I'll let you decide." I can hear the humor in his tone.

"Wouldn't it just be easier to tell me?"

"It would be, but where's the fun in simply telling you?"

That's when I realized what he was trying to keep my mind occupied. It was very kind of him for trying. It would take more than simple guessing games to take my mind away from what had happened only hours ago.

I sigh as I size him up from the back. I have to admit he does have a rather nice backside. It's obvious he works out. A lot. Even in my state of mental anguish I can appreciate a nearly perfectly sculpted body, which disturbs me.

"You don't look old or haggard enough to be from the cave era." I eye the back of his neck and what little of his face I could see. I was never good at guessing any one's age. Half of the time I can't even remember my own. "I'm going to guess you're in your forties."

Duncan made a noise I couldn't quite decipher. If I've insulted him, he'll just have to live with my horrid judgment of age.

"Excellent guess. And thank you for not considering forty to be such an ancient number." He said while still chuckling. Suppose there's a first time for a decent guess.

"So you were a child in the 70's, but not OF the 70?" That earned a smirk from both of us. It bothers me that I'm joking and that he makes me so damn comfortable.

"Were you looking forward to Woodstock stories?" He said. Looking back slightly over his shoulder.

"Yeah. I kind of was." It was the truth. I like hearing about stupid shit people did at concerts.

"Sorry." He said. Sounding anything but.

Time to get back to the guessing game he's created. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess you weren't born a Grey Warden?" I asked dully. Duncan chuckled and shook his head. "Sorry but I can't even venture a guess on this one."

"I became a Warden in 1994." He said nonchalantly. Quick subtraction lead me to my answer.

"You've been a Warden for twenty-five years?" I was impressed. The impression I was given of the Wardens were most of them don't live long and full lives.

"Indeed. Bet that makes me a bit of a geezer now. Doesn't it?"

At this I snort and chuckle. It feels wrong, but I do it anyways. "Naw. Seasoned, but hardly entering geezer territory."

"Most people your age wouldn't agree." He said, obviously amused.

I shrug, knowing full well he can't see me. "I suppose they would." Quickening my pace, I fall in beside him. "Since it's only fair, now you guess how old I am."

"Twenty-two." He said confidently. My brow arched curiously.

"Someone has done their research."

"As the daughter of one of the land's most popular noble, you should know every aspect of your family's life is under a public microscope."

I had nearly forgot about public reports and magazine articles about my family. I hadn't been a part of an interview since I had deployed for the Tevinter. "Which magazine did you read?" I joked. Duncan shook his head.

"I didn't need one. The Wardens have their own information network. We use it to find potential recruits."

"By network you mean spies?" I was intrigued.

"In a manner of speaking."

It was then a thought occurred to me. No one said I was the brightest bulb in the shed. "If you used this network to find potential recruits, does that mean you came to Highever to recruit me specifically?"

Duncan nodded. "I wrote to your Commanding Officer in Tevinter. He had nothing but wonderful things to say about your performance and agreed to transfer you immediately."

I should have been pissed, but now I was extremely intrigued. My Commanding Officer wouldn't know talent of performance if it bit him on the ass. My platoon often wondered how the hell he was able to get as far up as he had. "Why come to Highever? Why not just have me transferred to Ostagar?"

"And make an enemy of Teyrn Cousland?" Duncan scoffed. "I think not. No. I'd rather have his permission to make his only daughter a Warden rather than do so behind his back."

My father was a mellow man, but even the easiest going person has their limits. Having heard stories of his ruthlessness in the Orlesian war was disturbing enough. I had only ever seen him truly angry once. That one time was one too many for me. Not that I tip toed around my father by any means, but I knew his limits and was cautious. I know for a fact that he would never let me go off to become a Warden. At least not without some massive persuasion and some heavy duty prescription drugs to cloud his judgment.

"We'll rest here for the night." Duncan said, pointing to a large bushy tree. I had slept in worse places and was far too sore to disagree. Before I could offer to take the first watch, Duncan insisted I rest for a couple of hours at least. He would wake me when he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.

Sitting in a patch of grass, I rest my back and head against the tree behind me and close my eyes. I'm asleep in moments, but my sleep is hardly restful. I see my parents lying dead in the kitchen, and that rat bastard Howe hovering over them with a maniacal grin on his lips.

I was thankful when I felt Duncan's hand press firmly against my shoulder. I jumped from the ground. Pulling my Desert Eagle from my hip holster, I sit on top of a large tree stump, which allows me to have a clear view of the trail Duncan had I had traveled.

I doubt of Howe's men have followed us, but to pop one of those fuckers in the head would certainly give me some gratification. Now I find myself hoping one of them was stupid enough to follow us. Nothing would please me than to destroy something of Howe's. Anything would do. This train of thought gets me to wondering how fine of a line there is between vengeance and justice?

It's something I think of until Duncan and I set off the next morning. We were able to procure a car once we made it to a small village just outside the West Hills. Thanks to my hot-wiring skills I learned while I was fighting in Tevinter. Thanks to Duncan's wild driving we would be in Ostagar in no time. 

* * *

**XxxxxXX**

**Lothering**

**November 5th 2009**

**1:00 PM**

**Trent**

As I sit here on the couch with my sister, Bethany. I realize how much I've missed being home. Especially now that Carver's gone off and joined the King's army. All to show me up, be the center of attention. The hero. I hope, by now, he's figured out it's harder than it looks. My younger brother is a prig, but I believe he suffers from low self-esteem as well, which somewhat heightens my need to build him up and make him feel worth while. It's all pointless, as he's dead set on hating me. Nothing I do will change his mind. He's determined to be an ass. It's usually good for a laugh, and almost always comes back to bite him in the end.

This gives me some quality time with mum and Bethany. Mother tells me the darkspawn are coming. I do my best to act surprised, but in reality, it's not really all that shocking. Lothering is virtually defenseless and has no actual army to speak of. A few templars and armed farmers are hardly enough to stop any form of darkspawn from attacking.

"Trent, dear." Mum yells from the kitchen.

"Coming" I call out as I push myself up from the sofa. Already knowing fully well she's going to ask me to help her in the kitchen. My mother was blessed with an epic talent of burning the hell out of any kind of food. I'm fairly sure Beth did most of the cooking while I was away.

I'm hardly surprised to see smoke coming from the oven. Opening the oven door, I cast a small water based spell in order to prevent any flames from appearing. Turning to my rather embarrassed looking mother, my brow raises suspiciously.

"Scoot." I said. Banishing her from the kitchen. With a sigh of relief, she scurries away into the living room. Leaving me to salvage what I can of the ribs. Tragic really. I love ribs. Deeming them inedible to any life form on the planet, I toss them in the trash. After scrounging around in the fridge, I find pork chops. They'll have to do.

I can barely hear the TV from the Kitchen, but I know the news is on. Something tragic no doubt as mother keeps saying "Oh dear Maker above."

"Trent?" Bethany calls. "That girl you wrote about in your letters? You said she hails from Highever?"

"Yes." I answered. Ah. Jessica. I miss her terribly. Thank goodness for texting and email. "Why do you ask?"

"You should come here." She urged.

I placed the chops in a skillet before walking into the living room. Standing in the archway between rooms I focus on the TV. A pretty little blond reporter was standing outside of a castle in flames. My heart drops, and my knees nearly give out from under me when I realized it's a live feed from Highever.

Next to the reporter stands a frightened elf girl. "Yes." She said. Her voice quivering in fear. "We were in the kitchen preparing the soldiers morning meals, when all of a sudden men came from nowhere and started killing people. It was utter chaos and I barely escaped with my head." The elf broke out into a fit of uncontrollable tears.

"I'm so sorry Ma'am." Said the reporter, who sounded anything but sorry. Damn vultures. "What of Teyrn Cousland and his family? Are any of them left within the castle?" She prodded. The Elf's sobs were sorrowful.

"The Teyrn and his wife were killed by these men. No one inside is alive as far as I know."

Rage burned within the pit of my stomach as her words rang through my ears. "No one left alive." I repeated softly.

"Do you know who was behind the attacks?" The reporter prodded mercilessly. The elf shook her head and quickly ran off.

"Loyal viewers. You heard it here first. Today Ferelden has lost one of it's most beloved noble families. This is a tragic day for us all. Our hearts and prayers are with Highever."

I laugh bitterly. What else can I do. I want to punch this reporter in her insincere face, but that is hardly an option. Part of me hopes against all odds that Jessica made it out alive. The other part of me silently curses the Maker for allowing this to happen in the first place.

"As always, we will bring you more details when we have them. For FBC, this is Vasilia Dryden reporting."

After cutting from the reporter, FBC replayed what little footage it had from the attack. Showing parts of the castle on fire, dead bodies lying in alley ways. Real classy.

My mother and sister quickly join me in the arch way to comfort me. I know they mean well, but I don't need comfort. I need to know who did this so I can slam their head into a wall until there's nothing left but a bloody stump. I would have to be content with taking out my anger on darkspawn in Ostagar.

I'm so angry over the replaying news coverage, I don't notice the pork chops burning on the stove. None of us do. 

* * *

**XxxxxXX**

**Ostagar Ruins**

**November 4th 2009**

**6:30 PM**

**Cailan**

"Duncan is sure taking his sweet time." I said to the guard next to me. We stood at the entrance gates awaiting the Warden's return. "I really wish he would tell me when he leaves." The guard smiles and nods as he's supposed to. I sigh and turn my attention back to the road ahead. This is why I miss Duncan. Meaningful conversation instead of mindless agreement is preferred. I've stressed this to everyone in camp but, no one can seem to get over the royal part. Pity. I'm such an interesting conversationalist.

"Sire. There is a silver car coming." Yells the guard stationed high above in the watch tower. "What is your order, Sire?"

I sigh and resist the urge to roll my eyes. "Use your scope to see who's inside the car." I order dully.

The sniper stationed above does what he's told. It takes him but a moment to tell me Duncan is in the car with an unidentified woman. I order them to lower their weapons as I don't want the only man I feel comfortable speaking with me full of holes.

It's odd to see Duncan traveling by car. Usually he prefers horse back. I've asked him why when car travel is so much faster and easier? He prefers traveling my horseback, and isn't too keen on spend his gold on gas money. Something I've offered to pay for, but he always refuses. Stubbornness must be a Warden standard, because that is exactly what all of them are.

The silver car quickly approaches. The woman is the first to jump out. I immediately recognize due to all of the Magazine articles and pictures. Bryce Cousland's youngest daughter. Interesting choice for recruitment. I could have sworn she was still fighting the good fight in Tevinter.

The pictures I've seen of her do her beauty little justice. Although the scars along her neck and jawline take away from her otherwise tanned, flawless skin. She's tall for a woman. Taller than Duncan, who stands at least six feet. Her raven black hair stops just above her ears. I think she'd look better with long hair. Her eyes are slightly creepy. They are a bright emerald green and rather harsh looking.

Duncan sure does have a habit of picking up beautiful recruits.

"Your Majesty?" Duncan sounds surprised to see me. I can't imagine why.

"I've been waiting here for the better part of the day, so I can yell at you for not telling me you were leaving."

The Warden smiled impishly. "Sorry your Majesty. It wont happen again since I'm done recruiting for now."

"Good timing too." I look at the newest recruit and smile. She gives me a weak smile in return. It's obvious she's tired from her journey, otherwise she would be flirting with me shamelessly. Most women do. It drives Anora mad.

"And this must be your reason for leaving."

Duncan nods. "Yes Majesty. Let me introduce you to..." I hold up my hand and cut him off as I walk to stand in front of her.

"You are Bryce's youngest." I say. "We've never actually met, but I've heard all about you. Thank you for all you've done in the Tevinter." I keep the conversation professional.

"Thank you Sire." She smiles sadly as she bows her head.

"Your brother arrived early this morning with his men."

Her eyes go wide with surprise. "He has?"

I nod. "Yes. At the moment they are patrolling the Wilds."

"Oh."

"I will await your father's arrival before marching."

An odd noise passes her chapped lips. "He's not coming. Our castle was taken and my parents were killed by Arl Howe."

I couldn't be more surprised. "What?" I nearly yelled. I look at Duncan, who is looking sorrowful. "Does she speak the truth?" Duncan nods. Damn. I turn my attention back to the young Cousland. No wonder she looks so drained and red eyed. I thought she was high. "The darkspawn come first. But I can promise you that justice will be served.

"Thank you." She whispers meekly.

"I hate to cut this short. But I must meet with Loghain. He'll walk to talk my ear off about strategy and whatnot." She bows her head slightly.

"I made a stop by Redcliffe. Your uncle sends his regards, begs you to wait for his arrival."

I scoff. My uncle Eamon is an ass. I should have had him thrown in the dungeons long ago. All he cares about his power and control. It's no secret the man wants the crown. It will be a cold day in hell when that happens.

His last letters were what pushed me over the edge. How dare he imply I should leave Anora to father some bastard somewhere with some strange woman. It may have worked for my father, but it won't work for me. I can't stand kids anyways. Annoying little buggers.

"I'm sure he does." I say harshly. "No. We march tomorrow. Do what you need to do and meet me in camp later tonight. We have things to discuss."

Duncan doesn't argue. Both he and Cousland bow their heads and cross their arms in front of their chests. I'm quick to take my leave.

I don't believe I'll meet with Loghain just yet. We do nothing but bicker lately. I don't have enough vodka in me to do that. I know the Warden's have an nearly never ending supply of vodka and beer flowing. Maybe I'll get lucky and we can get Alistair drunk again. I like my half-brother. I really do, but watching him stumble about, flirting with the Chantry sisters was the most entertaining thing I had seen in a while. I suppose a nip before strategy talk isn't a bad thing.

Vodka makes Loghain far more enjoyable and easier to tolerate. Vodka and rum shots! Here I come!


	9. Alistair

******A/N:Again. I'm still sorry to those of you who are waiting for an end to RC. My muse wants no part of it. I know how it's going to end. It's just getting there that's posing a problem. Stupid muse. **

******I can't express how much I LOATH FF's set up. I'm sorry for the crowded chapter, but FF wont let me space anything. So sorry for the cluster fuck. **

**I know I usually have at least two or three POV's here. But this one kinda got a way from me. What can I say. Drunk and witty Alistair is fun to write. I thought about emphasizing the slurring factor here, but I quickly nixed that idea. It would make the chapter damn near unreadable. **

******A huge thanks to my spanktastic Editor Jinx1983. She makes these chapters readable. YAY JINXYCAT! Thanks to all of you for reading and following this story of mine.**

* * *

******Ostagar, Ferelden**

******November5th 2009**

******9:05 PM**

******Alistair**

All eyes are on me when I lift my shot glass up above my head. "I love being here. And I love all of you!" I proclaim proudly, before quickly downing my fifth shot of rum. My declaration is met by howls of laughter, but it gives everyone else the excuse to down their own shots.

Thank goodness I'm already sitting on the floor. My eyes are working hard to keep the room still; with very little success. My alcohol tolerance is sadly lacking. I blame the Chantry for not preparing me. After two shots of this cheap rum and I'm babbling like an idiot. After five I can't even remember what I just said. Cailan called me a chicken when I protested to anymore refills. When one man calls another a chicken, it's a race to prove them wrong. My King is an asshole, and I made sure to let him know. At least I think I did...If not I'll let him know when I sober up.

"Oh, Alistair." Jordan sighed longingly. "Your eally are just a soft and squishy girl on the inside. Aren't you?" I grin impishly at the young mage. He's an odd one, but I like him.

"Am not!" I chuckle. I raise glass up for yet another refill I hardly need."Anyways. I'd rather be in a soft and squishy girl." There is a moment of disbelieving silence from all in the room. Then the whole room erupts in laughter as if they had just heard the funniest joke in the world. I can't help but grin in response. I am SUPER funny tonight.

"Says the man who's never been inside anything but his right hand." Cailan chuckles loudly.

I really dislike him sometimes. But instead of pointing out his man whorish tendencies, I laugh right along with everyone else. What a freaking douche. I can't believe we're related.

After downing the last of my shot, I grab hold of a nearby stool in order to haul myself up. "I'm going to that old temple thingy." I sloppily make my way through the crowd and towards the tent's entrance.

"Do you need help?" Marlon asks; offering me his hand. I flash him a sloppy smile and shake my head. Marlon nods and returns to his seat. The elf has lightened up a bit since arriving, but not much. At least he'll talk to us humans now, which is something he wasn't doing three months ago.

Once I was out of the tent, I used the protective brick gates as a guide.

"Alistair!" Cries the camp's Revered Mother. I cringe. Even while drunk, the woman's voice somehow manages to sends chills down my spine.

I slowly turn towards the miserable old bat. Her harsh black eyes view me with disgust. This is nothing new. Word travels fast among the chantry mothers. Bunch of cackling hens.

"Drunk in public." She snorts as she looks me over from head to toe. I flash her asloppy grin. "You should be ashamed of yourself boy."

I couldn't even understand what she had just said. Before I could open my mouth she held up her hand; stopping me in mid-sentence. I suppose she knew anything I'd say would lack sense or sincerity.

The evil harpy's wicked smirk makes me want to laugh in he rface. Does she really believe herself to be scary? "I need you to deliver a message to the mages for me."

"Sure. Why the hell not." I proclaim loud and cheerfully. My choice of language is met with a disapproving scowl. Since I don't give a Mabari's ass what she thinks of me, I continue to grin moronically at her.

"He should be in the temple. Tell him that I need to speak with him as soon as possible. He won't like it, so I suggest you use your brain for a change and convince him that it's in his best interest to see me."

I shrug and nod. "Tell the grumpy old mage that the even grumpier old bat wants to see him. Gotcha." Even drunk I know when to run...or stumble away. I did as much as fast as my sea legs could carry me. I would never dare speak to her as such if I were in my right mind. I'm kind of a chicken shit when it comes to pissing people off. I'm hoping to work on that. Apparently all I need to fix that flaw is alcohol. Not exactly a shinning example of bravery.

She yelled angrily after me. I'm far too busy concentrating on keeping my footing to notice. It takes some time but I eventually find the temple. I groan when I spot him in the upper level overlooking the magi encampment.

Crap! More uphill climbs.

I grab the newly installed railing and haul myself up the long ramp way. He turns to face me as I approach.

Good Maker but he's an ugly bugger. His pig nose is wide and far too prominent. It actually takes away from his other less appealing features. His short brown hair looks as if someone placed a bowl on his head and simply just started cutting. His brown eyes are harsh and scary though.

"What is it Warden?" The ugly mage-man spat.

I grin widely, knowing full well it's annoying him to no end. He rolls his eyes and sneers.

"I'm a busy man. So I'll ask you again; what do you want?" At that moment I noticed someone approaching out of the corner of my eye. I would have turned to look, but annoying mages comes first.

"The revered she-banshee would like to see you. Something about it being...well I'mnot sure. I wasn't listening. But she wants to see you."

I hear snickering from behind me. Judging by the snickering it's a woman. At least someone finds my teasing funny.

The mage narrowed his eyes. "I have no business with her."

"I say that every day, yet here I am, delivering bullshit messages. We really are twoof a kind. It's a wonder we're not the best of friends."

The mage scoffs in disgust. "Hardly. Go back and tell her I have no time to meet with her."

"You can tell her. I've had my fill of playing page boy."

"Your snarkiness is not as enduring as you seem to believe it is. Boy." He sneers.

"Now that is just hurtful. And here I thought we were getting along so well. I had planned on naming my child after you." I looked thoughtfully into the distance for a moment, then turned back to the rather angry mage. "The grumpy one." Was sadly the best I could come up with in my state of mind. Even I was a little disappointed in how lame that sounded. It earned me another snicker from whom ever was behind me.

The mage sighs in defeat. "Fine. I'll go to her." He pushed his way past me. "I hate Wardens. Bunch of cocky mother fu..." He mumbles bitterly as he stalks away.

I turn to the person behind me. Holy shit, but she's cute. At least I think she's cute. I'll have to wait for my vision to clear up a bit before I can decide if she's cuter than Pamela. As far as I can tell she has short black hair, but I might be wrong. I need to stop forcing myself to see clearly. I'll just end up hurting myself from trying too hard.

"I'm glad someone here is able to enjoy my wit." I say. Trying hard not to slur.

"I was merely impressed someone so obviously drunk could manage to say the right things to piss off an all powerful mage. I'm sure that won't come back to bite you in the ass."

Well shit. Strike one for me. Time for a recovery. "What can I say. A possible Blight just brings all sorts together."

She raises her brow slightly. Or at least I think she did."I think I got most of that. I'm not real up to date on slurred drunk speak. But I suppose in a strange way it does bring people together."

Through my haze I realized who I was speaking with. She was the recruit Duncan was bragging about before he left for Highever. "You're the new Warden chick." I wince and mentally slap myself. "Way to make a first impression you doof." My inner voice of reason yells.

"That would be me. Although I prefer to be called Jessica." She said. Not sounding the least bit insulted. "Duncan described you, but you are far more interesting in person."

I'm going to ignore that for now. "Oh no." I groan aloud. I suddenly realize today might not have been the best of nights to drink. I'm going to have to take her out into the wilds. Before she can say anything more I tell her to lead on, and inwardly pray she has no questions. She moves ahead of me, but only slightly. She's worried I'll fall. At least that's what I choose to believe. How very kind of her.

Slowly we make our way to Duncan's camp. As usual Duncan is standing before his fire, trying to warm his hands. He turns to the both of us. I do my best to look authoritative. He snickers, which tells me my attempt is an epic fail.

"I have a task for you both. That is if you can stop harassing the mages long enough tohelp our newest recruit out."

Good Maker word travels fast in this place. Can't shit in the woods without everyone knowing about it.

I shrug. "The Revered Mother cornered and ordered me to take a message."

"And sass a first enchanter?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but thought better of it."Sorry."

"You can prove how sorry you are by collecting some darkspawn blood for our ritual."

I resisted the urge to shudder. There is something I had hoped to never see again. The last ritual was horrible. Poor Ser Jory and Daveth.

"I also need you two to find some documents of great importance. They should be in arun down temple, much like the one here."

"Got it."

"While you two are there, would you keep your eyes peeled for a pink and white flower. The kennel master believes it will help in a potion he's making for his tainted Mabari's."

"Of course." Jessica says worriedly. She must be partial to the damn beasts.

"Alright then. Good luck to both of you." Duncan said before turning his back to the both of us. It dawns on me that I have no weapon. Maybe that's for the best.

As we walk towards the gates, I turn to Jessica. "You know what. I think I'm going to let you take the lead. I believe you're ready."

"Gee. How kind of you. Thanks a lot for believing I'm ready." She briskly walks aheadof me. I watch her for a moment and sigh.

"Women. Can't live with them, and can't throw them to the darkspawn. I'd end up feeling bad for those beasts. Can't have that." I mutter as I struggle to catch up to her.

She draws her gun. It's shinny. I have to resist the urge to touch it.

"You puke on me, I'll shoot you right between the eyes." She warns as we walk through the gate.

That's what I like. A chick with spunk. At least I'll keep telling myself that.


	10. Jessica and Morrigan

**Korcari Wilds**

**November 9th 2009**

**11:20 PM**

**Jessica**

Being in the Wilds with an armed drunk and a forest full of pissed off darkspawn was not how I foresaw spending my first night in Ostagar. Not that I was completely sure how I had planned on spending my first night here, but at no point did I think I would be doing this. I choose to remain mildly optimistic and remember that my situation could be worse. I could still be in Tevinter or Highever. But this situation is still up there on the spectrum of suck.

At least my traveling companion can walk. Not in a straight line granted, but he's not stumbling over his own feet and planting his face on the ground like I assumed he would be doing. I have to give the man points for fighting gravity for so long. Hard to do when one is as drunk as he appears to be.

"Hey! There are some spawny up ahead. You should be super careful." He slurred ever so eloquently. I look back over my shoulder at the grinning oaf. His grin grows a little wider at my acknowledgement of his keen observation. I turn in time to hide my smirk. The doofy oaf is kinda funny.

Sure enough, upon a hill in the distance, stood a group of six darkspawn. Having a bonified Warden tagging along had its advantages. I wonder what it feels like to actually be able to sense them? Does it feel weird?Does it make one's stomach churn? Does it hurt? I can't imagine it feels normal or good in the slightest bit.

Behind me I hear a gun's safety click; followed by a loud blast. I had no time to react as the bullet flew past my head and into an unsuspecting tree several yards away. Slowly, I turn back towards Alistair and narrow my eyes. I'm not sure if I look as pissed off as I feel, but I'll certainly try to appear as much.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I ask calmly. He grins and holds up his gun.

"Shooting those things." He says, pointing to the darkspawn, who were not coming right for us. "What else would I be doing?"

"Give me your gun."

"Why?"

"I'm doing it to save a tree." I held out my hand. His pouting reminded me of something of a child. It almost made me smirk. Almost.

"It was coming right for us?" He tried.

"Gun. Now."

"You aren't the boss of me. If anything I'm the boss here. And I say I keep the gun!"

"Fine." I smirk. "When you shoot yourself in the foot, don't come to me crying."

"Whatever."

Turning myself back towards the impending darkspawn, my shoulders tense. I hate that word. It makes me want to hurt the person who said it. Instead I turn my attention back to the darkspawn. There were two hurlocks coming straight at us. Calmly raising my gun, I shoot the first hurlock between the eye. It howled in anger as it slumped to the ground. it's body twitching as it died. The second hurlock was coming up fast. The beast had its broadsword drawn back and swung at me with such force and speed, I barely had enough time to duck underneath the blade. Still in a crouching position, I raised my weapon and fired a shot into the beast's left eye. It made a horrible yowling sound as it covered its empty socket. Immediately I aimed for its right eye and pulled the trigger. The beast yowled angrily as it crumpled to the ground. I didn't stick around and watch it die, as there were three genlocks on a nearby hill shooting arrows at us.

Before I could so much as pull the trigger, a bullet came dangerously close to the left side of my head. I could feel the hot metal as it flew by. Luckily, it hit the intended mark. One of the genlocks fell to the ground. I took aim and made quick work of the remaining darkspawn. The swamp was silent.

Turning to my companion (I use that word _very_loosely) I aim the barrel of my gun at the grinning oaf's forehead. "I could return the favor," I calmly suggest. I could blame his untimely death on the darkspawn. But something told me Duncan would see right through that lie.

Still grinning Alistair chuckles. "Hey! I hit something. Didn't I?" He inquired sounding almost hopeful.

"What exactly were you aiming for?"

"The one over there," he said pointing to the top of the hill.

"You hit one further down the hill." I sighed as I holstered my gun on my hip. I should have assumed he didn't hit what he was actually aiming for. Lucky son of a bitch. "Let's go." I began walking without looking back to see if he actually followed, mainly because I knew he was.

We met up with several more bands of darkspawn, which were easily disposed of. Along the way Alistair slowly sobered. He went from making little in the way of sense, to groaning and hurling. I guess he took my threat of shooting him to heart. Never did he once hurl on me and for that I was personally grateful.

"You're looking a little green there. Need something to eat?" I said as I took a piece of dried jerky from my pocket. I bit into the large chunk of meat and made a sound of pure joy as I gnawed down on the meat, He groaned and quickly ran behind a tree. It was mean of me, but I couldn't help smiling. I waited patiently on the path until he finished. My smile was still in place when he returned, looking greener than he had before.

"Not a single word," he groaned as he stumbled ahead of me.

"Wouldn't dream of it," I said utterly amused.

"How you managed to impress Duncan is beyond me," he grumbled. For someone who didn't want me to say anything, he was sure going about it the wrong way.

"Funny. I was just thinking the same about you. I assumed he brought you on because he lost a bet with the king." To this he said nothing, but the back of his neck took on a lovely shade of crimson. I would have said something more, but a small group of darkspawn came from nowhere. Just as well I suppose. Best not to piss off a buzzed man with a gun. Of course I should have thought of this beforehand, but what is he going to do? Shoot and accidentally hit me? HA!

Perhaps I'm being too harsh on the guy. But first impressions are ever-lasting in some cases. Oh Andraste's sweet toenails! I'm turning into my mother. Now I _**have**_to give the guy a chance to redeem himself. I love my mother. I really do. But she sometimes she was epically too judgemental of other people. I don't want to become that kind of woman. Perhaps a sober Alistair was delightful. I'll have plenty of time to discover that one I suppose.

We fought through the small and spread out bands of darkspawn and made our way through the Wilds in silence which was fine by me, but it appeared to bother Alistair as he opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. I don't need to hear his lame drunken jokes and even lamer insults. I really just want this mission to be over with so I can become a bloody Warden. Really now, is that too much to ask for?

* * *

**Kocari Wilds**

**November 10th 2009**

**12:10 AM**

**Morrigan**

"_Oh. I definitely like this one." _I thought as I watched the warden imbecile and the would be warden slowly make their way through my Wilds. Well...not mine per say, but sometimes I feel as if it is really all mine. Being a wolf tends to bring out my territorial nature in abundance.

Using the trees as a cover, I follow them from a distance like I have with every other would-be warden that is sent here to recover darkspawn blood. Why mother wants me to keep an eye on all of these recruits is a mystery. I think she prefers to keep me in the dark and as much as I would like to question her motives behind this menial task, I know better than to ask for a reason behind mother's odd whims. It hasn't been all bad. Some of these recruits are rather entertaining. The recent recruits more so than the others I've seen in the past. I particularly enjoyed watching that elven-mage. So angry and powerful. It gives me goosebumps even now just thinking on it.

"_Military. Defiantly Military." _They way the recruit moved it was almost as if she was stalking her prey. The manner in which she moves is reminiscent of an assassin. Quiet, graceful, predatory. But while assassin's preferred quieter weapons, her firing skills were true and never missed its mark. I find this little would-be warden to be quite interesting.

Her companion on the other hand annoys me to no end. Does he really believe his "I'm dumb but lovable" act to be charming and witty? Do women now days really fall head over heels for this act? I somewhat doubt this is any sort of act on his part. But who knows, I could be wrong. It's happened once before.

It appears as if they have found a chest. As there are no darkspawn around, I suppose now's a perfect time to make a grand entrance. I doubt the oaf will be happy to see me again, but he's not whom I'm interested in. Although scaring the shit out of him is rather entertaining. Quickly, I change from my wolf form into that of my human form.

"Well. Well." I can't help but smirk as I walk down the stone ramp. The warden narrows her eyes at me, but makes no move to draw out her gun. Most surprising. "Two wardens in my Wilds. I would say that isn't something I see every day, but sadly that would be untrue as it seems to be happening more often than not." I turn to hung over oaf. "Alistair. What a surprise. Still afraid I'm going to swoop down upon you and steal your soul?"

The senior warden groans loudly. "Hello, Morrigan. I was hoping you would decide to keep to your swamp today. Shouldn't you be eating children or kicking small defenseless puppies?"

I chuckle softly at the disdain in his tone. "Both grand ideas, but I'm cutting back on my child consumption and I take little joy from kicking puppies nowadays." The urge to smack him with my staff is overwhelming, but a broken staff is rather useless. I turn my attention to the tall woman kneeling next to the empty chest. " Now would you mind telling me what it is you seek in this empty chest?"

"We were sent to retrieve treaty documents," says the would-be warden.

Again I had to chuckle. "Such a pointless mission your wardens have sent you both on. Did you really expect century-old documents to still be here?"

She shrugs as she shakes her head. "No."

I cock my head slightly and smirk. "I have been watching you for quite some time. Your skills with a firearm are superb. You are military are you not?"

"Yes. Up until several days ago I had been stationed in Tevinter," she said as she pushed herself up to her feet.

"That would explain why you didn't scream when you saw the darkspawn. I hear Tevinter has a bit of a nasty outbreak of darkspawn. I assumed with all the blood mages the Imperium having an outbreak would hardly be a problem."

Alistair coughed into his hand. "This is a lovely conversation and all. But would you mind telling us who has our documents?"

I ignore him and keep my attention focused on the soldier. "Might I know your name?"

"I am Jessica. It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Such manners still exist?" I turn to Alistair and smirk. "You could learn a thing or two from this one."

"Bite me, witch," he snarls.

"Be careful what you wish for, oaf." I say as sweetly as I can. Turning back to Jessica I nod. "As you already may have guessed, my name is Morrigan."

"Documents. Where are they?" Alistair again snarls bitterly.

"I haven't the foggiest idea." Of course I know where they are, but I do so enjoy toying with him. The red cheeks and clinched fists do make my day a little brighter.

"If you know where they are I know the wardens would appreciate their return," said Jessica

I sigh dramatically and nod. "I believe my mother has them."

Alistair opens his mouth, but Jessica quickly cut him off.

"Would you please take us to her?"

"Now that is a reasonable request. And so politely put. Of course will take you to her." With the wave of my hand I urge them to follow. The three of us made our way through the wilds and into mother's swamp house. It isn't much, but it's enough for the two of us. And mother's...guests. Which I choose not to think on.

As I expected, mother is waiting for us outside. I have no idea why she is so hell bent on meeting all of these new wardens. My ever-nosy mother.

"Mother," I sigh. She nods in silent response. "You, of course, remember this one." I waved my hand in Alistair's direction.

"Ah, yes. It is good to see you again boy."

"Hello, Flemeth." Alistair mumbled.

Jessica eyes went wide with surprise. "Flemeth? As in THE Flemeth.."

My mother chuckles as she always does when she receives this reaction from people. "Yes child, I am she. Allow me to put your mind at ease and say many if not all of the stories written about me are grossly exaggerated."

Jessica nodded shortly. "Of that I have no doubt."

"But you did not come here to hear an old woman discredit every tale every written about her. You are here for the treaties are you not?"

"Yes ma'am, we are."

Mother's eyes grew wide and a smile spread across her lips. "My, my. You bring me a warden with such manners. I had no idea they made those. Like matching socks."

I close my eyes and groan. Over the years mother's random outbursts have become worse. I haven't the slightest idea if it's on purpose or if she truly doesn't know she sounds insane. "Mother," I whisper out of the corner of my mouth.

"I know exactly what you mean. You bring a matching pair home and as soon as you take them off for the night one is always missing!" Both Mother and Jessica chuckled. I'm not sure if I should be perplexed or angry? I will go with perplexed for now. Both Alistair and I look at the two of them as if they had grown a second head on their shoulders.

Still chuckling, mother hands the documents to Jessica, who gladly excepts them.

Jessica smiled. "Thank you."

"You are welcome, child." Mother's chuckling quickly faded, replaced by a stern look I am most familiar with. "Go back to your wardens and tell them the situation is far more serious than they could possibly imagine."

"I doubt they take the situation at all lightly, but I will let them know," Jessica said as she handed the documents to Alistair, who quickly shoved them into his pack.

I glanced at mother and I noticed her looking at Jessica somewhat perplexed.

"Interesting. Just like the wardens before you, I sense nothing. I don't know if this disturbs me or not."

Now it was Jessica's turn to look slightly perplexed.

"Yes. Well. Now that all done with. I suppose you'll both want to be wanting to get back." I turn to Alistair. "Don't stumble into the swamp and drown on your way out. I'm sure the wardens will be saddened by your untimely demise...for a little while."

Mother smacked my arm. It wasn't as hard as she usually smacks me, but I knew it would leave a mark for a time.

"Mind your tongue, girl! You were the one who brought them here. What kind of host would you be if you did not show them the way out?"

"Yes. Of course." I muttered bitterly under my breath. "Fine. Follow me then."

"Before you leave. Would you like something for your impending headache my boy?"

Alistair looks back over his shoulder towards mother and shakes his head. "Since I already have one I'll pass." He muttered as he turned to follow me.

I look over my shoulder at mother. The usual stern look she wore was hardly a surprise. Such an actor she is. I caught a slight nod of her head. I knew what that meant. This was the last of the wardens coming our way. Well, shit. Mother and I are going to have our work cut out for us tomorrow night.

Leading them through the wilds took almost no time at all. I mainly led them so they could avoid anymore fights with any remaining darkspawn. There was very little talk along the way. Alistair's head was hurting, which only made it even more fun to tease and poke fun at him. He was in far too much pain to argue back.

We stopped just before the gates of Ostagar. Without so much as a thank you, Alistair stumbled in to the camp. I suppose thanking me would make him feel dirty. But it still would have been nice to hear.

"Thank you for everything," Jessica said. I smile back and nod.

"You're welcome, warden. I will see you soon." With that I turned back towards the wilds. I wait until she's well inside the camp before transforming into a wolf. I must hurry back, for mother and I have much to prepare for before tomorrow night. The thought of that many people in our home was enough to make my fur stand on end. But according to mother it had to be done. Who am I to argue with my crazy-ass mother.


	11. Trent and Sten

**A/N: Oh my gosh! It's been a while hasn't it? I could make excuses but I wont. All I can say is I FINALLY got my muse back. Thank the maker!**

**A huge thanks to my wonderful beta alyssacousland. Especially when it came to Sten's bit. I was majorly uninformed. She's totally awesome and when you all get a chance go read her fics. They are fantastic!**

**Thanks to all of you who read this. Again sorry for such a long wait. Enjoy!**

**Ostagar army camp**

**November 10th, 2009**

**12:15 am**

**Trent**

Standing alone in a dark corner of the camp tavern, I watch my brother make an ass of himself by taking on three wardens in a drinking contest. He would no doubt lose, but he was trying his best. Pity he doesn't put as much effort into fighting as he does drinking. He would be absolutely unstoppable.

I'm nearly tempted to join him, but even in his drunken state my brother would out my magical gifts without a second thought and not regret it in the morning. No. Best to keep my distance and watch with pressure from the shadows.

"Oh bloody hell," yelled one of the gruff looking wardens. "you can barely stand and you look as green as the grass. Give it up man."

My brother, much the defiant ass that he is, orders another gin on the rock and downs the full glass in one gulp. I can't help but smirk as he holds himself steady against the bar with little success. His eyes are half-closed in order to keep the room from spinning. Wanker.

"Never!" He slurs mightily as he motions to the bartender for another round.

"No." Says the same warden as he stops the bartender from serving another drink. "You've had enough solider. I think it's time you get yourself to bed."

My brother sneers at the mere suggestion, as he usually does when anyone with more power than he decides to give him an order. "Who are you? My mother? Just because you're an all mighty warden doesn't mean you get to tell us lowly army ants what to do. Go shove your nose up the kings ass. It's what your lot does best."

The room fell deathly quiet. All heads turning towards the three wardens. Everyone was waiting for one of them to throw the first punch. Instead of punching my brother's smug face, one warden came forward, lifted my brother up and over his shoulder and carried him out of the tavern. "If you're going to act like a child then you'll be treated as such." With that they disappeared into the night.

Upon their departure, everyone went back to their own bouts of drinking. With any threat of my magical outing gone, I was free to partake in a bit of drinking. I've never been much of a drinker, but with the upcoming war and the news of Highever a bit of a nip was a bit necessary.

Taking a seat at the bar, I ordered a beer, which the chipper bartender was more than happy to retrieve for me. The next fifteen minutes would be spent nursing the damn thing. Unlike my brother I am in no rush to dull my senses.

Jessica was heavy on my mind, as she had been for days now. I just can't begin to wrap my mind around the fact that she's actually gone. There was still so much I wanted to tell and show her. I wanted her to meet my family and everyone in Lothering. Most everyone there who had an ear knew about her and was dying to meet her. It broke my heart that now, none of them would have that chance. It's hard to believe someone who could lead men into a darkspawn army of thousands could be killed by...well anything. Much less a human army.

Thinking of our happier times was even more depressing. Not that we didn't have any. We did and they were wonderful. It was the fact that I was thinking of our happier times in the pretense that made thinking of them rather depressing. Those thoughts alone were enough to send my stomach into a churning fit.

Another thought that turned my stomach was the fact that no one had recovered any of the Couslands' bodies. Since the castle had been burned to the ground, it was likely no bodies would be recovered. There would be no closure there.

It had been outed on the news that the Howe house had been responsible for the attack. Yet Rendon remained a free man because he "claimed" the Cousland family was conspiring with Orlais in a hostile takeover of Ferelden. The man even provided documents proving his claims. He must have paid a bundle to whomever he could find to forge these so called 'documents'. In a morbid way, his plan was genius. He knew that no one would even contact Orlais about the authenticity of these documents.

I left for Ostagar the day after the attack had been on the news. Mother and Bethany tried their best to talk me out of leaving so soon saying my emotions were ruling my common sense. It was true, but I promised them I would take out my rage on the darkspawn and no one else. This brought them little comfort, but they both know once my mind is made up on something it is very difficult to change. They wished me luck and let me go on my way.

I was so deep in thought that I didn't notice the stool next to me had been occupied.

"That brother of yours is a real handful." A smooth male voice came from out of nowhere, which snapped me out of my reflective thoughts. I wasn't sure if I was grateful or angry for the interruption.

"What are you talking about?" I turn to find a elf in mage robes smirking at me.

"Oh you're right. I'll just ignore the similar facial features and the satisfied smirk you were wearing just a bit ago," he said, pointing to the corner where I had been concealed not well enough as it would seem.

I turn and snort into my beer bottle. "I suppose mages are mind readers now too?" I ask, hoping to end the conversation here.

A musical chortle comes from the elf beside me. I do my best to ignore him, but the damn elf is determined to speak.

"How easy it would be for us mages if we could read minds. But alas, I'm merely observant."

Cautiously, I crane my head towards the chatty elf, giving him the blankest stare I can muster.

"What do you mean "us mages?" are you implying something?"

A sly smirk plays over the elf's lips. "Playing coy now are we?" He asks rhetorically. "I'm aware you barely know me, but if you wish to keep it a secret, then so be it. I can respect that." He grins. "I'm Surana by the way."

"You'll have to forgive me Surana, but I'm not exactly up for talking right now. So if you don't mind going about your merry little way, it would be appreciated."

"Then I'll leave you to your self-pity party then. I have a joining to get off to anyways. Not my own grant you. Been there, done that. But it's a joining nevertheless. Fun times there let me tell you. But I hear this newest recruit is a strong lass. So I think she's got a shot."

"Wait. You're a warden?" I couldn't keep the surprise from my voice. All of the wardens I've ever come across are never this willing to speak with a soldier. They mostly just keep to their own.

"Yep. I got bored watching the others drink and watching my partner in crime text her honey bunny. So here I am, annoying you. Congratulations."

Feeling somewhat embarrassed I raise my head and smile apologetically. "I meant no disrespect warden."

He waved away my apology with a dismissive hand wave. "Please don't do that submissive soldier bullshit. I'm really getting tired of it." He said, grabbing his own beer and taking a long sip. "So what happened to your brother to make him such a pleasant prick?" He asked, getting back to his original topic.

There was no use in denying it. Plus something in my gut told me I could trust this guy. It might have been his laid back demeanor, but I can't be sure.

"Me."

"Oh. Makes perfect sense." He said smirking slyly.

"How do you figure? You barely know me."

"How much older than him are you?" He asked, ignoring my question.

"I'm five years older," I mutter.

"Now his behavior makes sense. Judging by the looks of you, I'd say you're a guy who has a solution for nearly any problem. Jealously, plain and simple."

"Duh. It really doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out." I said, despite the fact that I was rather impressed with his observation. Most people assumed it was just Carver being himself. Surly and unpleasant.

"Yep. I'll make it as a late night TV psychic yet!" He declared proudly.

Before I could make a retort he looked at his watch and jumped from his stool.

"Well. Duty calls. Joinings and all that fun stuff. It was nice meeting you?" He waited for my name.

I smiled and offered my hand to the warden. "Hawke." He eagerly shook my hand. "I must say it's been interesting meeting you."

"I get that a lot."

"I'm hardly surprised," the elf smirked.

"Good luck at your joining thing. Give the new recruit my best and wish her luck. From the whispers I hear around here she'll need it."

Surana sighed heavily. "You don't even know the half of it. But I'll tell her. It's been a pleasure to rescue you from the depths of your despair. Good luck in tomorrow's skirmish." He said before trotting across the tavern and out the door.

Left alone again, I tried my hardest to keep my mind of the conversation and elf I had just met, but as expected, my mind when right back to my memories of Jessica. Looking down at my neglected beer, it wasn't half as tempting as it was before.

Leaving the half-empty bottle, I got up from my stool and walked out the door. My eyes are heavy and I know I need sleep, but it's been days and hearing of his new warden recruit has me somewhat intrigued. Sadly, my body had other plans. It would not be denied sleep any longer.

Reluctantly, I made my way back to the army camp site and entered my tent. Not bothering to remove my uniform, I laid down my cot. I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

* * *

**Lake Calanhad**

**November 10th 2009**

**12:30 am**

**Sten**

Our noses are filled with the burning stench of Ferelden. I have smelled death and decay, yet this smell offends me. I find it puzzling, but I do not tell the others as I know they feel the same way. We are warriors and we do not complain over such trivial inconveniences.

"There is no one here. Perhaps we should search elsewhere for the signs." Said my fellow Qunari. We all nod in agreement and move back the way we came.

We all take one look back towards the Tower across the lake. This is where they keep the mages. Not as tools to be used in times of war, but as pets. This idea is unrealistic, but that is humanity at its core. I do not understand them nor do I wish to.

As the three of us turn back towards our entrance, we are met by a small group of darkspawn. I unsheathe my beloved Asala, ready for the inevitable attack.

In all honesty, I am baffled by their speed. I was told darkspawn were lacking in any kind of combat training. The creatures that stand before us obviously know how to wield a sword and quite well.

I feel a presence behind me and before I can react the darkspawn behind me knocks his shield into my skull. I was not expecting such resistance. I fall to the ground and everything goes black.

**Xxxxxx**

I regain consciousness several hours later. I find myself disoriented for a time, but quickly collect myself.

I find myself in a house and there is a human child staring at me. I sit up and a woman approaches me and asks me how I feel. There is a man who smiles and talks to me, but I am still too dazed to understand what they are saying.

"Be careful, there, friend. You were badly hurt. Take it easy."

I remember the battle with the darkspawn and start to panic and I try to control myself.

"Where are my brothers?" I ask the human in a growl.

The man is startled by my anger.

"They were all dead. The darkspawn, they-"

His words trail off as I look around for my Asala and find her gone. Rage fills me and I stand up, towering over the now cowering human.

"Where is she? Where have you put her?" I snarl.

"I don't understand..."

A blood-curdling yell escapes my throat as I attack the man, my hands snapping his neck with a speed I did not know I possessed. Growling, I turn to the child and his small neck breaks almost instantly. I am so fast, that the woman never manages to scream and falls dead to the floor. In a few moments, I kill two more children and another man who is trying to run out the door to cry for help. A whimper guides me to another room where I find another woman, an elder one, crouching next to a bed. I wring her neck and watch as she slides to the floor.

The door bursts open and several men rush in having heard the screams coming from the small house. I stand there, my anger spent. I look at the death around me and an emotion I've rarely felt rises within me: regret.

I slowly drop to my knees. "What have I done?" I pointlessly ask myself. "They don't have her."

And the humans rush forward with clubs in their hands, screaming angrily. I do not make a move to defend myself. I had lost everything. Asala was gone. There was no way I could go back home. I didn't have the answer to the Arishok's question, and I did not have honor. I was less than a soldier and I wanted to die.

They take me to other humans with guns all aimed at every important organ of my body. Some part of me hoped they would pull the trigger, but I knew they wouldn't. Nevertheless I went with them peacefully. What else could I do?

I was led to the town square of the town they call Lothering, I survey my surroundings and the humans. They look at me with disdain, but I can sense their fear. Not only for me, but for something else. As this village surrounded by forest, I was positive there were darkspawn near. Their fear is justified.

I was brought into a large building. I held my head high as I was marched before a stern-looking human female, who did not attempt to hide her disdain for me.

"Do you know why we have brought you here Qunari?"

I say nothing, but nod my head.

"Do you deny your crimes?"

"I do not."

"Do you feel remorse for what you've done?"

"What I feel is irrelevant." What could I say?

Her glare turns into pity. This has me slightly confused.

"Then you leave me no choice. You will be confined into the care of the templars until we have reached a decision."

"No."

Confusion and anger crosses her face.

"I will decide what will be done," I pause to remember my surroundings. "On my way in I noticed a small cage at the edge of town. I will stay there until I die. It is the only way to repent for what I have done."

The human female appears thoughtful for a moment, then nods in agreement.

"An execution would be far more fitting," a human says quietly with a gun in his hand.

"No," I retort. "The cage will give me time to reflect on my actions." I look directly into the female's eyes. "I will be brought no food or water, as I deserve no such treatment. It will be a slow death. I deserve nothing more."

Pity again fills her face, but despite what she is feeling, she nods.

"Very well. Take him away."

They did. Now my people would never know of the shame I've brought them. Their hatred was more painful than anything the humans could inflict.

That thought alone brought me comfort.


	12. Jessica, Cailan and Loghain

_**Holy cow. It's been a while hasn't it? Such things happen when life rears it's ugly head. But I'm back and hopefully in form. As always a huge thank you to my fantastic and wonderful editor alyssacousland for making this readable for the masses. Thanks to all of you who take the time out of your day to read this fic of mine. Enjoy!**_

_**Ostagar army camp**_  
_**November 10th 2009**_  
_**12:30 am**_

Jessica

As I followed the other wardens in to the old tower, a sense of dread washed over my entire body. My steps became heavy, breathing felt like a chore and the knot in the pit of my stomach made keeping food down difficult. This damn Joining and the mystery surrounding the whole thing is nerve-wrecking. Any ceremony involving darkspawn blood, magic and maker knows what other mystery ingredients can surely not bode very well for those involved. Also, the looks of pity on nearly every warden I passed was not in the least bit encouraging. But that might just be my overactive imagination.

Working through my bodily dysfunctions, we all reach the highest level of the tower. Alistair urges me to stand in the center of the room while the wardens form a circle around me. Now I can feel my heart beating out of my chest. I do my best to outwardly hide apprehensiveness. Since I can't see my own face I really don't know how well that's working out, but hopefully my best stone soldier face is coming through.

"Duncan should be here at any moment." Alistair knowingly informed all of us.

"Yes." I said, trying to keep my voice steady and even. "I assumed as much. I just want to get this over with."

I hear a sardonic snort coming from my right. My eyes follow the sound. I'm not at all surprised to find an amused dwarf girl staring me down.

"They really will let just anyone become a warden now days." She sneered. A half smirk tugs at the corners of her lips. "When the bottom of the barrel is scraped with actual talent they bring in little rich girls to fill the void. Daddy must have paid an ass-load to get you here, Miss Priss."

This accusation is nothing new. I've heard it my whole military career. I'd be lying if I said it didn't bother me, but it would be a waste of time to beat the ever living shit out of every single person who implied I have more riches than talent. Not to say the first several men who said those exact same words didn't end up in the hospital with some broken bone or another,

"You'll have to forgive her. She was raised in the ass crack of Orzammar where manners are hardly encouraged," said the male dwarf standing next to her. Judging by the way he spoke, he was hardly raised in the "ass crack of Orzammar". This earned him a deathly glare from mouthy counterpart.

"Go piss up a rock Aeducan." The dwarf barked. "Had you not gone and murdered good old king daddy and your brother, I'd be saying the same to thing to you."

Well, well. Isn't this group full of interesting beings. We're all going to kill each other before we even get to any darkspawn.

"Would a fight in order to test my worth make your day a little brighter?" I ask her before the red -faced dwarf with murder in his eyes could speak.

Turning her attention back to me, a wide-knowing grin spread across her face. "And rob you of your Joining?" She said followed by a short laugh. "I wouldn't dream of it. But if you survive, I might just take you up on that offer."

If I survive? What the fuck does that even mean? I really should have asked questions before leaping into this fire pit.

Before I could ask what she meant, Duncan came up the ramp with a chalice in hand.

"That is quite enough Marlya," He shot the dwarf a look of warning. She mumbled an apology as he walked past her. He stopped in front of me and looked down at me. A somber look in his eyes. Oh Makers ass, that isn't a good sign. "But she is right. The joining is dangerous. Few survive the ritual."

"Which is why there are so few wardens." I finish. Duncan nods in confirmation of the obvious. Even though my mind is reeling with fear and my stomach is working to keep down what little food I had, I look directly into Duncan's eyes. "Let's get this over with."

"So be it." He says as he raises the chalice before me.

I didn't hear much of what was said over the sound of my own heartbeat in my ears. Something about words said before every joining. Don't ask me to repeat them because I couldn't. My whole life flashed before my eyes before I reached out for the chalice. Would I really die? Was this really any better than being captured by Howe? I quickly decided it was and grabbed the chalice from Duncan.

A bitter, metallic taste filled my mouth as I drank. I've never been much of a blood or Lyrium drinker, and now I know why. At least those are the two flavors I could pick up on. There was something else my taste buds couldn't quite place. I didn't have any time to contemplate as my sight left me, and images filled my mind.

I saw millions of darkspawn underground, all cheering and shouting at a high dragon high above them. The high dragon looked directly into my eyes. Fear filled every fiber of my being looking into the pure evil in those eyes.

Then I fainted.

I don't know how long I had been unconscious. I slowly opened my eyes; Duncan's face hovered just above me. He was smiling, his eyes filled with something close to pride.

"Welcome sister. You are now a Grey Warden." He said while helping me up to my feet.

"Those are some fucked up visions aren't they?" asked a Elf in mages robes. He flashes me a sympathetic smile that just makes me want to smack him. "Everyone here has had them. Sadly, they don't get any better."

"Aren't you just the bringer of wonderful news." I mumble as I struggle to sit up. My head is still groggy, which is preventing me from doing the simplest of tasks. Duncan steps forward and extends his hand for me to grab. He slowly helps me to my feet. It takes me a moment to gathering my bearings, but it occurs to me that I feel different somehow. I'm more in tune with my surroundings and with the darkspawn wandering the woods around the camp. Is this really all there is to being a Grey Warden? Feeling darkspawn? It's kind of anti-climatic if you ask me. But that may just be my opinion.

"When you feel yourself again, I'd like it if you join me in a meeting with the king." Duncan says. Inwardly I groan because I know this meeting entails strategy, but outwardly I nod in agreement.

"Wait a minute! Why does the newbie get to sit in on a meeting? Why aren't all of us invited?" The dwarf girl protested loudly. All of the other wardens mumbled in agreement.

I look around me at all the slightly disappointed warden faces. My gaze falls upon the angry dwarf's face. I give her my best fake smile, tilting my head slightly showing her my amusement of her jealously. "I don't think he meant anything by excluding the everyone else. If you all want to sit in on a strategy meeting, then by all means join in. It should be a thrill a minute."

The anger drained from her face, but the glare remained. Most of the wardens disperse, going about their camp business. The only one to stay behind was an elf. He gives me a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, which are filled with sadness. I suppose all of us wardens have a past, some more painful than others. But he wears his pain for the world to see. I'm almost envious of his openness. But it's hardly how I was bred.

"Marlya is a little rough around the edges, but she really is nice one you make it past her judgmental stage."

"I'll have to take your word for it." I chuckle.

"I'm Marlon by the way." He said, extending his hand to me. I'm rather surprised, but I waste no time in taking his hand. They are calloused and rough."I hail from the ever fantastic and plush Alienage of Denerim." He tries to hide his bitterness, but fails miserably. Can't say I blame him. I'd be bitter too if I were considered less than a third-class citizen.

"I'm..." He didn't let me finish.

"Major Jessica Cousland." He finished for me. "Anyone with a TV, or who reads a newspaper knows that."

"Please. Just call me Jessica. I'm not a major anymore and I'm..." I trail off. I hadn't allowed myself time to think about losing my family and home. It just seemed so surreal. Like I could wake up any moment, home in my own bed with my mom yelling through my door to get myself up and ready for some important meeting.

Marlon cleared his throat, bringing me back to the present. My eyes are so misty I can barely see through them. I try to speak but nothing comes. Normally I can hide my emotions better than this. The army trained me well in this respect. There was something about the way Marlon was looking at me, as if he could see right through my self-built emotional wall.

Without a word, Marlon grabs my shoulders and pulls me to his chest. I do nothing to fight him, instead I bury my face in his chest. My entire body is shaking as he strokes my hair as one would stroke a cat. His compassion mixed with the reality of everything I've lost brings the tears I've been holding back. Marlon only holds me closer.

"There's only you and me here. No one else will see you cry." He whispers in my ear. "I won't claim to know how you feel as everyone handles loss differently. I know you don't know me, but I know how it feels to lose someone you love and everyone needs that one person as a shoulder to cry on. If you don't mind an elf being that shoulder, you can come to me anytime you want."

His sweet words and understanding do nothing to stop my tears. If anything they are unstoppable now. I sob onto his shoulder. It feels as if I've been crying on his shoulder for hours. I feel comfortable with him and I'm not really sure why. It's more than his understanding. Or maybe it isn't. Again, I'm not sure, but I feel I can trust him.

I gently push myself off his shoulder. Marlon hands me a kleenex so I can wipe my eyes and my running nose.

"Thank you for being here, Marlon." He nods. "For the record, I don't care what race you are."

He let out a humorless chuckle. "Then you would be the third person I've met who hasn't." He motioned towards the bottom of the tower. "Come on now, Jessica. You have a strategy meeting to attend for us."

He laughs at my childish groan of disappointment. I give my eyes one more wipe with the kleenex before trudging down the ramp way. Oh Maker's hairy balls. This is going to be a long night.

**Ostagar Army Camp**  
**November 10th 2009**  
**1:35 am**

Calian

These strategy meetings are always a pain in the ass. Especially with Loghain here undermining everything I suggest. What crawled up his ass and didn't die? Loghain is usually pushy and overbearing, but over the last month it's been worse. It's really becoming a problem. I'm thinking of sending him to Redcliffe. Let Eamon deal with him. Oh Maker, how funny would that be? Two of the biggest pains in my ass living under one roof. They'd kill each other. Hmmm...The more I think on this idea, the more I know it's nothing short of brilliant. Once we win this battle, I'll make my divorce arrangements, send Anora and her father packing off to Redcliffe and leave Ferelden in Alistair's hands. I'm sure Duncan will help my brother run things to the people's expectations. Yes. This is what I will do before I leave for Orlais. Thank goodness for pre-planning.

Loghain drones on and on as to how bad of an idea it is for me to be on the battlefield with the wardens. Blah, blah, blah. I doubt he would speak to my father like this. Hell, I'm sure Loghain would wipe my ass with his hand if I were exactly like my father. Oh the stories I've heard from both Eamon and Loghain about good old king Maric. How brave and wise he was. Now don't get me wrong, I love and respect my father as any son does. I just wish those who knew dad would stop comparing his rule to mine. We may be father and son, but we are nothing alike in any way, shape or form.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice one of the wardens approaching the war table. I recognize her as Jessica Cousland. The fact that she's here means she's survived her joining. I'm pleased that the wardens have one more to add to the dwindling numbers. I know Cousland will be a fine addition to the wardens. I'm, of course, basing this on all of the stories Bryce told me of Jessica's military career.

I've never actually had the pleasure of meeting Jessica until a few days ago. Before then, Bryce would tell me stories of his daughter. I know she was fighting the good fight in Tevinter and a major in the army. What Bryce didn't tell me is that his daughter is so damn cute. Her short red hair curves around her flawless oval face. Her eyes are slightly unnerving. I've never seen a woman with red eyes who wasn't a mage in some fashion. How very odd, yet they somehow suit her. Everything about her presence demands respect. So much so that even Loghain is silent for a time. I silently thank Jessica for that small favor.

I'm leering at her without meaning to. The way she's glaring at me only makes me more aware of this. I stand up a little straighter and clear my throat.

"I'm...ummm...glad you could join is Warden Cousland." I stammer stupidly. She nods in silent response. "I really am glad the wardens have yet another able body. We will need all the help we can get in this battle."

"Which you will be no part of, Your Highness." Loghain adds just to be an ass.

I roll my eyes and sigh. Here we go again. "I told you Loghain. We need every available man. I'm available and able to lift a sword and shoot a gun. I do believe those are required in a battle."

"Brains and the ability to plan is also important, Your Majesty." Loghain practically spat the last part as if it were a curse word. What a pretentious asshole he is.

"He is right, Your Highness." Duncan adds. I turn towards the Warden Commander. "Think for a moment. Where would Ferelden be if we were to lose you on the battlefield?"

As much as I respect Duncan, I know he is wrong. "I won't die as long as I'm with the wardens. I'm sorry, but my mind is made up."

Everyone at the table sighs.

"You place too much faith in these wardens, Your Majesty." Loghain sneers while looking at Duncan. If the Warden is disturbed he gives no indication.

I loudly slam my hands down on the table. Everyone around me jumps in surprise. "Here is what's going to happen." I say with great determination. "I will ride with the senior wardens." I point to the map. "Loghain. You and your men will flank the enemy from behind. This will close off any means of escape."

Loghain says nothing, but I can feel him silently brood next to me. At least I got him to shut the fuck up for a moment.

"The Junior Wardens will be here," I point again at the map. "The tower of Ishal. Cousland. You will be in charge of this group. Your job will be to light the fire at the top of the tower. Once it is lit, that will be Loghain's cue to enter the battle."

"You'll have to excuse my confusion, Your Majesty. But why is it necessary for ten junior wardens to light one fire?" Jessica asked.

I shake my head. "While you are well-trained in the ways of battle, the other junior wardens are not. Now there won't be any enemy resistance in the tower, so it should be a fairly easy in and out mission. Once you have lit the fire, you all may join the rest of us on the battlefield."

If looks could kill, Cousland's would kill me ten times over. If I didn't have a wife, I'd be scared.

"Now that we have a plan, we gather the troops. We have some darkspawn ass to kick tonight." I turn from the war table and walk back towards my tent. Behind me I hear a collective of groans from all around the table. I can't help but smirk a bit. Let them chew on that plan for a while. I will be on that battlefield. Maker as my witness, I will be just as famous and brave as my dear old dad.

I'm just getting my breastplate on as Loghain burst through my tent doors, looking as furious as one man could be. What a drama queen.

"May I help you Loghain?" I ask innocently. This only adds fuel on to the Loghain flame of rage.

"What are you trying to prove being out on the battlefield? That you can die just as easily as anyone else?"

I fasten the last of the belts on my breastplate before answering. "Loghain. If you're going to lecture me, I'll save you the trouble right now and have my servant show you the door."

"You're father never would have done something so foolish," he spits.

"Really? From the stories I've heard from you and others who knew dad, I'd say he was rather impulsive, even reckless. How is my plan any different than something he would come up with?"

Loghain took a deep breath. I assume this is to calm himself.

"Yes. Your father was impulsive. But he also knew when it was right to involve himself and when it wasn't. He also had a son, a solid bloodline to carry his name."

"And I wonder who's fault it is that I don't." I shoot back.

"Watch your words boy." His voice is filled with the promise of violence. I wisely decide to move on.

"I'm doing what I believe the men need. They need to see that their king isn't afraid to get his hands dirty. They need a king who is willing to fight to protect the land they themselves cherish so much. Isn't that what my father would do? Wasn't he willing to lay his life on the line for the people of a country he loved?"

"Yes. Within reason. Maric loved this country, but he never tried to make a name for himself in history books. You, on the other hand are. But if you feel this is the way to make a name for yourself, then it's obvious no amount of reason will change your mind. You better be sure your precious wardens can save your ass when you're surrounded by darkspawn. If that happens, then there won't be enough of you left to send back to your wife, much less for a burial." With that he turned and stormed out of my tent.

Man. I thought that was going to be a lot more painful. He is right about one thing. I'm tired of living in my father's shadow. I want to make a name for myself. I want my people to know that in times of need I will be there to fight for them. If a fantastic story just so happens to be written about me, then so be it.

I won't be in Ferelden long enough to enjoy the stories anyways. I think of Celene and smile. I'm unable to help myself as I pull out the letters she sent me. The letters themselves are innocent. The offer of more wardens to assist in the battle. I trace the letter with my fingers, as if I were caressing the skin of the woman who wrote it.

Her latest letter is most curious though. I just received it this morning and she writes to tell me she's changed her mind. She suddenly doesn't have any wardens to spare. Also her handwriting has changed. To the untrained eye it looks the same, but I know Celene's handwriting better than I know my own. This is not her. I have my suspicions as to who wrote this abomination of a letter, but at the moment I can hardly prove it. Anyways, I have more important matters to attend to.

"Oh Celene." I sigh as I place her letters back in the box from once they came. "For you, I will survive this battle."

I grab my sword and 45. mm handgun. I'm eager to leave the comfort of my tent behind and join my men on the battlefield.

**Ostagar Army Camp**  
**November 10th 2009**  
**2:15 am**

Loghain

_What a selfish, arrogant, self absorbed prick. _I think to myself as I walk into my own tent. Maric would be ashamed of his son's actions today. No matter what he might say, I know what that boy really wants is glory. He could care less about protecting Ferelden from any kind of threat. Hell. He's even called in assistance from Orlais. Of all places why Orlais? I didn't spend all of those years fighting those Orleasian bastards out of Ferelden just to ask them back to help. There are plenty of other countries to turn to for help. But then again, our King isn't sleeping with any of those countries' Empresses.

That boy knows just what to say and do to put me in a fowl mood. But, after our conversation, I am more convinced than ever that my plan is the right course of action.

Ser Cauthrien meets me at my tent doorway. She salutes and allows me to enter first. I know she will be against my plan, but in the end she will listen to me. She's faithful to a fault. She'll inwardly question why I'm doing what I'm doing, but never me aloud. This is why she's my first. Ever the faithful lapdog.

"Are the horses ready?" I bark.

"Yes my lord. As are your men. They await your orders." She stands at attention awaiting her own orders. Without sparing her a glance, I walk across the tent and ready my weapons. It's only for show at this point, as I have no intention of actually using them in such a pointless battle.

"Tell the men I will meet them at the gates."

Ser Cauthrien bows and quickly leaves the tent.

I linger in my tent, pacing the floor while thinking over my plan for any unforeseen flaws. There are none that I can see. Howe has taken control of Highever. Not really in a way I would have done, but it was his need for family revenge that drove him. I can hardly fault him for that. However, I don't plan on telling Howe that the younger Cousland child has survived. That will be his problem when the time comes. He'll be more than happy to extinguish the Cousland line for good. I, for one, will welcome it. To me they are nothing but Orlais supporters. I have no need for any of them.

People worry about the Blight, thanks to the wardens spreading the word of such nonsense. I must say, it came at the perfect time. While the people worry about monsters lurking in the woods and under beds, I'll be out fighting the real monsters of the world. Orleasians. Just the thought of those bloodless bastards fills me with such rage.

I grab a nearby knife, walk over to the map of Orlais sitting on my desk and stab the map until my anger has somewhat subsided. I will wipe that disgusting country from the map if it's the last thing I do. And Maker help whoever stands in my way.


	13. The Battle

**Hello all! Another chapter is upon us. Took me long enough! As per usual. A huge thanks and hugs to my ever amazing beta alyssacousland. Who proofed this even though she wasn't feeling well. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Ostagar Army Camp

**November 10th 2009** **3:00 am**  
**Marlon**

While the Royal army, senior wardens, and the circle mages all march down to the battlefield, we junior wardens stand before Duncan and Jessica, who just finished telling us what our job is to be come fighting time. I, for one, am thrilled not to be taking on hordes of darkspawn. However, Jessica seems to be the only other person who shares my relief. There were outcries of epic unfairness of the whole plan. Alistair, Jordan, Marlya and Zella appeared to be particularly broody about the 'light- the-beacon plan'.  
Actually four of us are lighting the signal, while the others keep watch outside of the tower and hold off any darkspawn that may break away from the battlefield. Needless to say, I volunteered to help light the beacon. Now don't get me wrong. I would love to cap some darkspawn ass, but if there are as many as Duncan say, I feel living to see another day is a far better option. What can I say, I'm a pseudo chicken shit.

"I _still_ say our place is out on the field with all of the other wardens," Alistair argued. "What if you need us and we're off standing around with our thumbs up our ass waiting for something to do?"

Well now, the red-faced, angry lad has a point. I snorted at the mental image, but Duncan and Jessica looked less amused. Actually, Duncan wasn't amused, Jessica had the slightest hint of a smirk going.

"These orders are directly from his majesty. Given how many inexperienced fighters we have among us, I just so happen to agree with this plan." Duncan looked as if he wanted to say more, but was rudely interrupted by the mass outcry of frustrating coming from the other wardens.  
There are plenty of angry faces about. Really? Do these morons really want to die that badly? I almost argue that if these idiots want to die so badly, let them. Darwinism at work here.

"Fuck His Majesty and his stupid plan." Marlya practically screamed. I'm fairly sure she was heard by everyone in the camp. "I came here to kill some darkspawn. I could have lit fires in prison."

"I hear matches are hard to come by in prison and they don't give you much in the way of crap to fill your cell. So unless you're one of the many who are curious if one can light a fart on fire, you'll just have to make do with this signal." Jessica said, completely straight faced. This was met by soft chuckles . Even Duncan turned his back to the rest of us to hide his amusement.. The only one who didn't seem to be laughing was Marlya.  
Duncan turned back to all of us and spoke before Marlya could say anything in retort.

"I say again, this is by royal command. I'm sorry everyone but my hands are tied." All of us grew silent as we were once again brought back to the reality of our menial task at hand. "If it's any consolation to any of you, once the beacon is lit you all can join the rest of us on the battlefield."  
"Well fine." Alistair pouted once again. "But if the king asks us all to wear dresses and dance the Remigold, I am seriously going to have to question his ability to hand out menial tasks."

All of us looked at Alistair as if he had grown a second head.

"What the fuck is the remigold?" I asked a loud. Apparently, I forgot to use my indoor voice.

"He's talking about a type of dance that was done in the middle ages." Duncan said, sounding somewhat surprised as he stared at Alistair. "I didn't know anyone in your generation knew about group dancing anymore."

Alistair's lips turned into a smirk and he shrugged. "I spent a lot of time reading about the ye olden times in the chantry library."  
This hardly surprises me. I'm sure there is plenty of time to study between training to hunt down mages like rabid dogs. Oddly enough, I don't see Alistair as the mage hunting type. I base this conclusion solely on the fact that I've seen him give our attractive group mage the twitterpated look more than once. It's kind of cute, and weird.  
"You? Know how to read words? I must say, hearing of your accomplishments never ceases to amaze me." Jessica says in mocking surprise.  
While everyone giggled, Alistair's smile matched Jessica's own sarcastic smile, his cheeks red with embarrassment, or anger - I couldn't figure out which.  
"You really are funny," The smile was still plastered on his face. "tell me, do you know sign language?"

I turn my attention to Jessica. A smirk was tugging at the left corner of her lip.

"I really wasn't trying to be funny, but thank you. And yes I do know sign language."  
Alistair brings up his left hand. Lifting his hand, palms faced towards his face, he places four of his five fingers downwards. The only finger that remains upright is the middle.

"Then I'm sure you know what this means." It wasn't a question.

"You're showing us your IQ?" Jess asks, wearing a sardonic smile. Alistair's mirrored her smile, his eyes narrowing as he kept his middle finger in the air in front of jess.

"That is quite enough children," Duncan's authoritative tone cuts through the rising tension between Alistair and Jess. We all stand up a bit straighter at his order. "you all have a job to do. I suggest you all decide on groups and who will go where. May the Maker watch over you all." Duncan quickly turned on his heels and left before anyone could speak.

As Duncan strode past me he muttered something underneath his breath. It was rather hard to make out, but I did happen to catch something about moronic adults acting like children. One could hardly deny that keen observation. Well okay, I couldn't argue. I'm sure others in our group would be insulted hearing the truth.  
After Duncan departed for the battlefield, we picked our group leaders and decided which group would be going where. I was honestly rather surprised. With all of the massive personality clashes amongst us I expected chaos. A hasty democratic vote took place. Originally we had all voted Alistair to lead the Ishal party, but he was quick to give the rein of command over to Jessica, who was less than thrilled, but took the job without complaint. Zella would lead the lookout group. Since she is the most observant and skilled hunter among us it made sense. The Dalish couldn't have cared less, but accepted her new title.

Jessica, Alistair, Pamela and myself were the Ishal tower team. After the beacon was lit, we had all agreed to meet outside of the tower, then the battlefield. Should anything go wrong our official cell phone holder was Pamela, while Jordan was team 'our job is way too fucking easy' cell phone monkey. If we were to run across any problems, we would at least have back up.

How fucking hard is it to light a beacon? What could go wrong? 

* * *

****

Ostagar battlefield

**November 9th 2009** **3:21am**

**Duncan**

I could not get away from the new group of warden's fast enough. What the hell have I done?  
Forcing all these people together is just asking for disaster. Desperate times call for desperate measures I suppose. I'm just glad I'll be on the battlefield and won't have to be anywhere near any of them until they finish their mission. Which will hopefully take a very long time.

Oh, Maker, the whining that is sure to follow is hardly anything I'm looking forward to. But it's better to have whining newbies than dead.  
As I exit the camp, I stop on the slope that leads to the actual makeshift battlefield. The king's army has taken position just outside the camp entrance closest to the tower of Ishal. It's not as vast as it could be. Much of the king's army is still fighting the good fight in Tevinter. It annoys me that Cailan can't be bothered to call upon the rest of his deployed cavalry, or wait for uncle's army to arrive. The Circle mages do make up some of the difference in a lack of armored bodies, but not by much. If an actual horde is coming our way, we are outnumbered. I doubt Loghain's troupe will make much of a difference, but he does have the more experienced soldiers. Hopefully that will count for something.

A pang of dread fills me as I think about what awaits us. It takes every ounce of inner strength I possess to keep the contents of my stomach. Maker help me, but I'm having doubts about this plan. Sadly, I know better than to voice my concerns to His Majesty at this point. No doubt he would laugh it off as some kind of joke. That's the problem with dreamers with power. They believe themselves to be impervious to disaster. Having songs and stories written about their bravery is well worth the lives lost and families destroyed.

Knowing I'm unable to delay any other, I make the walk down the sloped path and down to the field. I easily spot Cailian talking excitedly with one of my wardens. The king smiles widely as he sees me approach. Never have I wanted to smack sense in to anyone as badly as I do him. It would be a waste of time.  
I bow before taking my place to the left of the excited king.

"It's a good day for a battle isn't it, old friend?" The excitement oozed from his voice.  
I grimace and inwardly sigh before answering.

"Of course, Your Highness." I keep my voice even and monotone.

I chance a glance at Cailan, who is looking oddly serious.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared," A soft smile formed across his lips. "I know everyone believes I'm here for the glory. I let them believe these things because nothing I say will change anyone's mind of the kind of king they believe me to be. Duncan, I'm here today because I believe Ferelden and its people are worth saving, worth dying for. These men and women here today have left their families to prove how much they love this country they call home. They all inspire me to be a better person. Anyone can sit on a throne and order people to die for their country. I've never wanted to be that king," he paused, gesturing with his hands towards his army. "Being out here among these people is the best way I can think of to prove I have faith in them and that we can win today."

I don't even attempt to hide my shock. This is the most mature thing I've ever heard from Cailan's mouth. He chuckles at my reaction.

"Contrary to popular belief Duncan, I am capable of a deep thought now and again." Cailan smirked followed by laughter and a clasp of his hand on my shoulder.  
"I never doubted for a moment, your Majesty." I say instead of laughing like I want to. I've known the king his entire life, and never once have I heard him say anything remotely thought- provoking. "But you do speak as a man who is expecting to die."

"Do I? I have big plans after this, so I certainly hope I'm not made into darkspawn chow."

There is the king I know. I already miss deep and insightful Cailan. At least I'll have my memories.

I roll my eyes and sigh softly. "Darkspawn aren't zombies, highness. They don't eat people."

"Only as far as you know," he said with a grin.

I shrug. Hoping to lose some of Cailan's interest.

I was thankful to see Cailan turn to the grand cleric standing directly behind us. It was time to give the soldiers the chantry's blessing. The king is the first to receive the Maker's blessing. He bowed his head in thanks to the blessing he has received.

The sisters weaved their way through the sea of soldiers, granting the Maker's blessing upon all who wanted it. Most of the soldiers found the prayers as a source of strength. There were a handful of soldiers who did not seem to take the same comfort and energy from these blessings. These are the men and women who have gone out into the wilds and know what violence the darkspawn are capable of inflicting.

The more battles I experience against these creatures, the more I find myself understanding why blessings are of little comfort. I'm becoming a cynic at my old age. Or maybe it's because I know my time is nearing. My calling as it were.  
A hand slams down on my shoulder.

"Buck up my man," Cailan said, the grin spreading across his face. "This battle will be no different from the others"

Buck up? He may be the king, but that doesn't exclude him from being an utter jackass.

A sharp pain creeps over every part of my body. Had I not been used to this sensation, it would have made me double over in pain. The usual intense headache quickly followed.

The Darkspawn are here. Many darkspawn. The more there are the more intense the pain. Feeling darkspawn is a blessing and a curse. Knowing where they are is an advantage, but the pain they bring to the human body is almost unbearable.

I looked out across the field and into the wild forest. What emerged were in the thousands.

I realize this is not going to be like the other battles. I glance at Cailan from the corner of my eye. His face is pale and his eyes are wide with surprise. No doubt, he's come to the same conclusion. Sadly, there is no backing down now. No matter how much any of us want to turn tail and run.

A dreadful but true realization hits me.

We'll be lucky if a handful of us survive.

Ostagar Battlefield 

* * *

**November 9th, 2009** **3:30am**  
**Avellne**

The men are silent as our enemy emerges from the forest. Hell, even I'm stunned. Why are there so many of them? There have never been this many before. Has word got around to the other darkspawn that our army has defeated so many?

I should be talking my men up; giving some inspiring speech of surviving the odds against us. Unfortunately, I can't seem to find my voice.

The only sound coming from the field is coming from the darkspawn. Spewing, screaming and howling in victory. Can't say I blame them. Were the odds in our favor, we would be screaming in a victory we had yet to obtain.

A hundred darkspawn are easy enough to take down. But this had to be a third of the fucking horde..

I wanted to kick myself for doubting, but numbers are everything in a battle. Sadly, that is something our side greatly lacks.

In every soldier's life, there comes a time where our lives flash before our eyes. My thoughts wander to my husband, Wesley. Will I ever see him again? Would we ever have the children we've always wanted, but waited to have? Does he know how much I adore and love him? Would he ever know? If I died today, would there be enough left of my body to find and bury?

A mental kick is what I need.

I close my eyes in order to see an all too possible picture in my mind.

Darkspawn invading Lothering. Fear stricken children running for their lives. My husband fighting for his life and those he is sworn to protect. The town being overwhelmed by these disgusting beasts. Death and destruction everywhere. Wesley's lifeless eyes peering back at me as he lay being devoured by darkspawn.

I don't allow the vision of what is possible to continue. It's far too painful.  
_  
No!" _My mind screams, as I quickly snap open my eyes. "_I will not allow that to happen! Those bloody bastards have taken too much already"_

I gathered my wits and opened my mouth.

Instead of words, an angry scream emerged. Matching those of the darkspawn across the field.  
I did not need to look around me to know I was being watched. I could care less if they thought I was crazy. I'm pissed and feeling brave at the moment, and I don't really care who knows it.

I guess my display was inspiring. Soon the soldier next to me joined in my battle cry. Within a matter of moments, I couldn't hear my screams over those of my fellow soldiers. If all of Ferelden could not hear us, I'd be completely surprised. I can't speak for everyone else, but I was filled with pride beyond measure. For the briefest of moments I actually believed we could win this battle, and send the darkspawn off running with their tails between their legs.

Riled and ready for a fight, the alarm sounded for archers and catapults to fire into the hoard. It knocked the first several rows of darkspawn out, leaving us with hundreds less to kill. It isn't much, but it's something.

An alarm demanding a second wave for the forces above sound. More flaming arrows and boulders pass over our heads, and into the seemingly never-ending horde.  
I took an odd pleasure in watching darkspawn die. Heads were crushed, bodies were splattered and arrows protrude from vital body parts.  
The barrage from above stopped. A period of reload time was needed. Which meant we were up next. Good. My blade is singing for blood.

I believe we all would have preferred gun's to swords. Unfortunately, with the war still raging in the Tevinter weaponry choices are rather slim. Most of the country's gun supply had been shipped overseas and manufactures could produce fire arms fast enough. Given the king's impatience for a battle, guns would never made it to Ostagar in time anyways. We work with the tools we are given and don't bother complaining about it. I prefer a sword anyways. I like a weapon that allows control.  
A second alarm sounded. There was a roar from the men and women around me. All at once he charged head on towards the darkspawn. The sounds of swords clashing and screams of agony surround me. I know most of them are the screams of my fellow soldiers, and as much as it pains me, I concentrate on the Herlock charging towards me at full speed.

Holy Hell, but these monsters are fast. But I know I'm faster.

I bring my sword back in a striking position. I don't give the beast a chance to do anything with its own sword. I bring my own blade across its neck. A look of what I believe is shock takes over its hideous features. I watch as its body slumps to the ground and its head rolls towards me; stopping at my feet.

Kicking the head as far away from myself as I could, I prepared myself for the next attack. Taking down Hurlocks and Genlocks were easy enough. It was the sheer number of them that would make this exhausting.

Suddenly, the ground shook with such force, nearly everyone was knocked off their feet. I looked up for the source of the quake.  
It's the first time I've ever physically felt the blood drain from my face. Fear consumed every fiber of my being as I watched that fresh hell emerging from the forest..

"Ogre." I breathed as I got to my feet.

Not just one ogre, but a small army of them.

The courage I felt before was now gone.

For now I needed to protect the king.

If that failed, it was either escape or death.

Selfish as it may be, I choose life.


	14. Where it all begins

**A/N: It's only been a year since I've uploaded anything. Not to long. After national novel writing month, I'll try to pop out more chapters. Unless real life gets in the way. **

**It is sad when you have to go back a read your own story, because you forgot what the hell it was about. But I think this is an okay chapter. I think this story needs more humor. Next chapter. **

**A huge thank you to alyssacousland for fixing this mess of a chapter. Because of you this chapter makes sense. You are awesome. Those of you who haven't read her fics, I highly suggest you do so. They are wonderful! **

**Thanks to all of you who are taking the time to read this. **

**Enjoy**

* * *

**Tower of Ishal Courtyard.**

**November 9****th** **2009**

**3:42am**

**Brand**

The bridge leading to the tower of Ishal is littered with dead soldiers. I don't know about anyone else in my group, but I find this sight slightly discouraging. I figured a higher vantage point above the battlefield would place the darkspawn at a bit of a disadvantage. These corpses are proof that they are far better prepared than any of us thought. Yet, the remaining men and women on this bridge fight with what little they have. Snipers. Bow and arrows. They won't last long at this rate and it's a damn shame.

However, there is no time to wallow in my doubts. There is a menial task to be done that only we can do. For some odd reason. I get the sneaking suspicion Duncan gave us this task in order to keep us newbies out of the way. I can understand this to an extent, but it still pisses me off. I'm a dwarf for ancestors' sake! I know how to use my ax and I know how to kill a fucking darkspawn. But, orders are orders.

Ancestor's asshole. Is this how my guardsmen felt when my father forced them to follow me around, instead of doing something productive like killing things in the Deep Roads? Shit. If I ever make it back home, I owe them all a couple hundred rounds of beer. This really does blow huge nug chunks.

"We're coming up on the tower of Ishal," Alistair screams back at our group, so to be heard over all the screaming and weapons firing. No one answers, since we all know we are nearing the tower.

We are met by a frantic soldier and mage, who tell us the darkspawn have somehow found their way into the tower and its grounds. An odd sense of relief washes over me and I can't help but smile at this new development. Here I thought this mission was going to be relatively violence-free.

"The two of you are with us. I suggest both of you do your best to keep up and be useful." Jessica said to the soldier and mage. The two men exchanged a worried look with one another, but turned back to Jessica and nodded in agreement.

The more the merrier I suppose.

Something about that woman ,(Jessica), is...unsettling. I'm not sure what it is, but whatever it may be, it demands respect. I don't know much about her, but what I do know is that she's seen her fair share of hell and survived. She doesn't take shit from anyone either and I kinda like that. She's okay as far as humans go. Plus she managed to put that street trash dwarf in her place. All the better I say.

We did not need to run too far before meeting up with our butt-ugly welcoming committee. The bastards were crawling everywhere; clawing, slashing and shooting at anything that moved. They overwhelmed unsuspecting and suspecting soldiers alike. Most of these poor sods never even stood a chance against this many at once. These are the soldiers who have never seen or fought against a darkspawn, but had heard stories and lectures from their commanding officer. Didn't do any of them much good.

Our group scattered throughout the courtyard. Taking on any darkspawn that were between us and the tower. I take on a large Hurlock . Over ambitious of me, but I don't let the size difference bother me in the slightest. The battle excites me, as it would any red-blooded dwarf. The sounds of my weapon splitting flesh and bone gives me goosebumps. The blood protruding from its leg wound only feeds my adrenaline.

I ram the Hurlock with my shoulder. As if taken by surprise, it jumps back from me ever so slightly. I take this moment to go in for the kill. I leap from the ground, cock my ax back in a swinging position and bring it down on my enemy's neck. The cut is clean and disconnects it's head from the rest of its body.

I don't dawdle around watching my handy work. I move as quickly as my legs could carry me, (which is sadly not that quick given the shortness of my legs), and take on the next Darkspawn.

There are far too many Darkspawn here, which worries me slightly. How did they even get here? I don't have time to worry about the why's of our situation. I know what needs to be done. Before I take on the next enemy I search out Jessica in the crowded yard. It takes more time given my size, but eventually I find her near the rampway leading up to the tower.

I some how manage to avoid enemy contact and reach Jessica.

"Get your crew inside that damn tower. There are enough of us out here to keep these fuckers busy."

She nods once and motions for her group to gather. Damn. She could have argued a little bit. It's what humans do right? "_Oh no. I want to pointlessly stay and help you!" _or "_I couldn't do that. I'll stay to the bitter end and die a martyr because that is how us humans roll.."_ Nope. None of that. Which tells me that she is practical. I like that. When the time comes I think I'll vote in favor of her leading us.

With the group inside and our mission well underway. I turn back to the business at hand. The yard is now a sea of pissed off Monsters. I know my group will do their best to buy time.

Now it's time to knock some fucking heads. Life sure is oddly grand sometimes.

* * *

**Tower of Ishal**

**November 9****th** **2009**

**3:55 am**

**Pamela**

"_Oh hell! Oh bloody hell!" _Was the thought running through my head as we fought the sizable group darkspawn waiting for us in the tower foyer. Yes, I fought several groups of darkspawn before my joining, but not very well. I froze when I saw how monstrous and ugly they are. Not that I assumed they would look like fluffy monkeys or anything, but Andraste's knickers! I wasn't expecting what we got.

"_Heal her. Fire on that thing. Heal him. Ice on that other thing. Ack! Heal me!" _In most situations, I find giving myself mental orders to be helpful. This was not one of those situations. Had I been paying attention, I would have seen that Arcane bolt coming my way. Easy enough to heal, but I'm still annoyed with myself for missing the bloody thing.

When the last of the darkspawn were disposed of, Jessica called us all around her. We gathered and awaited her orders.

"Well. This is a fucking pleasant surprise." Jessica said, voice dripping with sarcasm. It was the slight smirk on her lips that befuddled me. Was she enjoying this fighting stuff? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. She was a soldier after all. But I thought noble women didn't like blood and killing things. Of course I get all my information on nobility from books and fairy tales.

"Is everyone in one piece? No injuries to be tended to I hope?" Jessica looked around at each of us visually inspecting us just to be sure.

As Marion and Alistair shake their heads, I release the breath I hadn't known I was holding. Had my healing spells not worked, I'm sure they would be a messy pile of goo on the floor, but it's a slight boost to my ego knowing my healing magic did its job.

"Pamela?" I heard Jessica sternly say my name as if she has been calling me for a while.

I jump without meaning to. What can I say? Fighting has me on edge today.

"Y...Yes?" I hear myself ask stupidly. I know what she asked, but sometimes my mouth doesn't connect with my brain or ears.

"Body report. Do think anything is broken? Missing limbs? Bloody wounds? Brain damage?" Jessica asked.

I'm momentarily thrown off by her question and I'm not sure why. Typically, I'm able to feel missing limbs. But, like a moron, I spread my arms and search my body to see if anything is missing or bruised. Once I hear chuckling coming from my teammates, I quickly slam my arms down to my side and look at the floor. Heat rushes to my cheeks and I look down at my feet.

"I'm fine." I softly say to the floor.

"Alright. Let's move on then." Jessica says. Still chuckling.

With Jessica taking the lead, we all silently make our way through the foyer. As we reach a door, Jessica raises her hand, silently beckoning us to stop. No one asks why as we all feel the presence of the darkspawn on the other side of the door.

Putting into words the feeling that comes over me when a darkspawn is near would be difficult. There are so many sensations that happen all at once. All of the sensations center around pain. Stabbing. Burning. Fear. Anger. That's only to name a few. As uncomfortable as these sensations are, the early darkspawn warnings is worth the pain felt.

We readied our weapons before entering the darkspawn infested room. The room was filled to the brim with hurlocks and genlocks. One died and another would just take its place.

Once the room is cleared, everyone else looks about the room. Since everyone else is on foot patrol, I see no need to search and move ahead. The most noticeable feature in the room was the gaping hole in the middle of the floor. It didn't take a genius to figure out who made this hole and why.

"Holy shit." Alistair gasped. " How the hell were they able to do this?"

"I'm guessing with shovels." Jessica stated dully.

"I didn't think they were smart enough to use anything other than basic weapons." Alistair said thoughtfully.

A snort came from our leader.

"Shovels are pretty basic. Making it possible for even the brainless and idiotic too use them."

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled under his breath.

Maker, but were these two ever going to get along? I suppose it takes a little longer for some to see eye to eye with one another. Alistair glared daggers into Jessica's skull, but there is the slightest bit of amusement in his narrowed eyes. Not to mention the corner of his mouth keeps twitching. He actually enjoys their verbal sparring? I look at Jessica and suddenly a twinge of jealousy hits me. Wonder where the blood hell that came from?

Wordlessly, Jessica turned towards the next room.

There were many floors like the first and they seem to go on forever. I must say I am very tired of seeing darkspawn around every corner. But, on the bright side, I'm making good use of arcane battle magic. I've only ever used it in my Harrowing and even then my Arcane attacks were fairly weak. Before I was kicked out, I did some reading and carefully tweaked a couple of electric spells. Now I don't have to cast electricity eight or nine times before it downs anyone. At most I only need to cast twice before it fries someone's insides.

"We should be getting close to the beacon." Alistair stated, as we searched through the dog kennels.

More Darkspawn flooded from the rooms surrounding the kennels. Taking them out was a piece of cake. As was taking out the small group in a room at the end of the hall.

We all looked up at the stairs that obviously lead to the tower. Our mission was almost completed. Yet, no one breathed a sigh of relief.

You know the feeling you get when you know something bad is about to go down? The hard rock in your stomach and all that jazz? I think all of us shared that feeling. Well, that and the fact that we could sense more darkspawn ahead. It was either a huge group of them, or one massive monster waiting up ahead. Yep. Fun is what you sign up for when becoming a Warden. Join now!

"Pam. I want you on healing patrol, unless I say otherwise." Jessica said. Not being one to argue, I nodded.

The three of them brought up their weapons as we marched up the stairs. Cautiously, Jessica pushed open the door. More stairs leading up to the tower. Slowly, we climbed the short group of stairs.

An Ogre stood in the middle of the tower. It by no means looked happy to see us. I can say with all honesty that the feeling was mutual.

All four of us sprung into action. Marion and Alistair took off sprinting towards the massive beast head on. Jessica positioned herself behind the ogre, firing off shots in a crouched position. I ran to a corner far enough away from the action, but close enough to heal anyone who needed to be healed. I feel helpless as I watch everyone fighting. The feeling doesn't last long as I watch the damage this beast can do.

This ogre could do some massive amounts of damage and it was fast. I don't think any of us were expecting something that massive too be so light on its feet. The room shook as it leapt into the air and came crashing back down to the floor. The landings sent us all flying backwards. It would swipe at Marion and Alistair with the back of its hand with amazing speed. Jessica barely rolled out of the way in time too miss it's charge.

As soon as I had someone healed another would be in need of patching up. It's wearing down on me and my lyrium supply rather quickly.

Out of the corner of my eye I spot Jessica throwing her gun aside and pick up a discarded sword off the floor. I turn to look at her in surprise. The wheels of my mind start turning. A stream of every action movie I had ever seen, (which isn't very many), run through my brain as I watch Jessica grip the sword with both hands, moving into a striking position. Was the crazy woman going to do what I think she's going to do?

"Pam! Do know any ice magic?" Jessica yells over the chaos.

Oh hell. She is going to do it.

"Yes." I yell back.

"Then freeze this fucker."

I silently begin the chant for the one ice spell I know. I don't have much magical energy left. I know even before my staff releases any icicles that it won't work. The ogre is merely stunned. However, it does manage to bring his attention to me. Obviously pissed off, the ogre lowers its head, preparing to ram me. I know Jessica and the others are yelling at me to move. I pay them no mind. I am scared out of my wits, but dying is not on my agenda today. One thing I'm not is a quitter.

My eyes close as I start chanting again. This time I use all of the magical energy I can spare and take aim at the ogre. This time it works like a charm. I open up my eyes and scream as I see he's only a few feet from my face. I fall to the ground and scramble away as far as I can.

Jessica, Marion and Alistair waste no time. All three jump the ogre at once. The force of three blades at once was too much for the ice ogre too handle. The beast shattered into a million pieces upon impact. We all hit the ground in order to avoid the bits of frozen flesh flying at us from every direction.

"That was rather anti-climatic," Marion said, as he pushed himself up from the floor. "I figured something that huge would break more bones, or put up more of a fight."

A grunt was all I could manage as I attempted to push myself up from the ground. My ass had other plans and found a comfortable spot on the floor. Alistair came over and assisted me to my feet.

"This midget is out of her ever loving mind." Alistair whispered in my ear. It was funny, but I couldn't muster much more than a half-hearted smile. I barely have enough energy to lift my head up too look at him. Thankfully, he could somehow sense this and allowed me to borrow his shoulder.

"Great," Jessica sighed. "I'll be picking bloody chunks of ogre out of my hair and clothes for days." Jessica groaned as she got up. She immediately began the search for the beacon.

It wasn't hard to find, as there was a large stack of wood piled in a fireplace. Next to it sat a lighter torch. Once the fire was lit, all four of us made our way to the open windows on the opposite side of the room.

We all watch the battlefield below. It's hard to believe Loghain's men are going to make that much of a difference here. Men are greatly outnumbered by monsters on the field. I might be wrong. The king seems to believe his advisor will live up to his legend, save the day and make this a battle for the ages.

"Do any of you see Loghain and his men?" Alistair asked. I could hear the worry in his voice.

Jessica pointed behind a tower in the distance. I was unable to lift my head high enough, but Alistair is very detailed in his play by play of the events unfolding.

"There are at least one-hundred men that I can see. All in silver armor and armed to the teeth with high caliber guns. I think we may stand a chance," he beamed.

"What the hell is taking them so long? They had to have seen the fire by now." Jessica wondered aloud.

"Why the hell are they all just standing there?" Marion growled.

Something wasn't right and we all knew it. We could do little more than watch from a distance as Loghain and his men left us all to die.

* * *

**Ostagar outskirts.**

**November 9****th** **2009**

**4:45am**

**Loghain**

The dying screams of men. It's a sound not even veteran soldiers become accustomed to. This whole battle was a damned mistake. Good men were dying because of Cailian's need for victory and fame. Damn his Grey Wardens and his Orlesian whore for placing these insane ideas in his head. A blight my ass. The Orlesians and Wardens must be working together in order to take over Ferelden. It's the only explanation that makes sense. Yes. There are bigger threats than the darkspawn that must be eradicated.

So why is my decision now starting to weigh on me? I know what consequences will come with my actions. Men and women will die on this battlefield today. Painful as it may be, sacrifices have always been a large part of war. These people have died for a greater cause today.

Cailian will die, of that I have no doubt. Truth be told this does bother me. I believe he is far too weak minded to be king. As much as I loathe him for cheating on my daughter; he is still Maric's son. That will weigh heavily on my mind for the rest of my years. I can already hear Maric's voice in the back of my mind. Pleading with me not to let his son die. I do my best to ignore it. I have Ferelden's best interest in mind. I am what is best for this country.

I know my decision will be frowned upon and even criticized. I know that I can convince the nobles that my actions are just. Some might be easier to sway than others. Eventually all of them will see the situation as I do. One way or another.

I have already foreseen Arl Eamon as a problem. There would be far too many probing questions from that man. It was just my luck to stumble upon a blood mage just before leaving Denerim. Several weeks before our chance meeting I was even luckier. One of my contacts within Redcliffe informed me of the Arlessa's recent (anonymous) request for a maleficar. According to my resource, the Arl's young son has been showing signs of having magical abilities. I know why the Arlessa does not wish to send her only son too the circle for training. Nevertheless, I couldn't have asked for a more perfect situation. It didn't take much to convince the young blood mage to apply for the job. A promise of freedom once I become the new king was all it took. He was even willing to poison the arl for me. What a desperate man won't do for freedom. It truly amazes me sometimes.

One thing I didn't count on is that damned warden leader bringing along Maric's bastard son. I've observed him from a distance. He seems an honorable sort of man. It appears that he is more of a follower than a leader. This works out well for all, but his existence could lead to problems later on. Hopefully that problem will work itself out today and the darkspawn will kill him for me and my cause. Just in case it doesn't work out that way, Howe and I should work on a backup plan.

The roof of the tower of Ishal burns brightly. The warden flunkies have told me and my men it's time to save the day. It is an ominous sign of sorts. It means all of the piece of my plan are coming together. Excitement and dread take hold of my insides at the same time. There is no backing out now.

My first officer in command beside me stands at attention. Ser Cauthrien is the closest thing I've had to a friend since Maric's disappearance. I know she would silently question my decision and my sanity, but never question aloud. It is one of the many reasons why she is my first officer. She follows blindly and I like that.

"Ser. The men are ready and awaiting your orders." Ser Cauthrien saluted.

I suck in a deep breath. This is no point of return. Once the order is given, I cannot take it back. I can hear Maric's voice in the back of my mind again, screaming at me not to do it. I ignore the tiny voice, my resolve now set in stone. Yes. I can do this.

I do not make eye contact with her, and keep my eyes on the battlefield head of us.

"Sound the retreat." I keep my voice emotionless.

Next to me I can feel Ser Cauthrien stiffen in surprise.

"But Ser. If we do that won't everyone..." She trailed as I quickly grabbed her arm.

"Sound. The. Alarm." I emphasize each word between gritted teeth.

She shakes free of my grasp, looking at me what I perceive as disgust.

"Yes Ser!" she yells. Her eyes shadow my own icy stare before she hastily turns away.

She holds her left hand in the air, which gathers the attention of the surrounding soldiers.

"We leave the battlefield, men." Ser Cauthrien yells. A horn sounds in the distance, telling my men and women to make a hasty exit.

Before I join my men, I take one more glance back at the battlefield.

My eyes find Cailan's. The hurt and anger he is feeling is shown clearly on his face. He calls out to me. His words quickly drown through the sea of screams, gunfire and clashing swords.

I turn my back on my king and join my men.

I know without a shadow of a doubt Cailan's face will forever haunt my dreams.

* * *

**Ostagar Battlefield**

**November 9****th** **2009**

**4:49am**

**Cailian**

"Maker's ass. What is that son of a bitch doing?" I stupidly asked out loud. I expected no answer, nor did I need one. The scene playing out before me did not need too be explained to me.

Does he really hate me so much that he is willing to allow us all to die? Yet another stupid thought. Obviously, he does if he's turning his back on us. Rage rose within me. I wanted to run after him and bash his face in with my fist. It would do little good as there are more pressing things to worry about. Once this battle is over I shall put a price on Loghain's head, and handsomely reward the lucky bugger who is able to bring me his bloody corpse.

That asshole had the audacity to look back at me. Our eyes meet and my anger flares. I see no hidden meaning behind his stare. No malice. Hatred. Defiance. There is no emotion at all. This disturbs me as I expect to see something. I know the rage I'm feeling is showing all over my face. I hope my face haunts him for the remainder of his pathetic existence.

Loghain breaks eye contact first, joining his soldiers as they leave Ostagar. So many thoughts race through my mind. Catch up to him and talk sense into him. Beat the ever living shit out of him. Kill him myself before someone else steals that honor from me. None of these were an option as there were darkspawn everywhere. Winning this battle without his help can be done. It will just take a little longer than originally planned. But I still want to kill the man.

"Your highness," Duncan suddenly appears beside me. "If Loghain is not going to help us, then we must get you out of here."

"No. I will finish what I started," I yell over the sounds of the battle.

"With all due respect, Your Majesty, that is suicidal and unbelievably stupid," Duncan said as he ran his dagger across the neck of smaller darkspawn. I laugh at his honesty.

"Unbelievably you say? I'll have you know all stupid things I do are completely believable." I try to sound hurt. Next too me, Duncan chuckles.

"I don't want to be the one too agree with you, but I'm willing to play the martyr just this once."

"Very noble of you, D." I say as I slash at an oncoming darkspawn.

"Since I can't talk any sense into you, just stay close," Duncan says with all seriousness. I sigh and nod as I follow him through the field.

Dead bodies are everywhere. As we run through the field, jumping over dead soldiers, it hits me. We are not going to win this battle. A lesser man would allow this realization depress and deflate him. I am not a lesser man.

I am so deep in thought that I lose Duncan in the thick of a darkspawn swarm. I narrowly miss a blade of one of the beasts. I make quick work of the hurlock and those surrounding it. That is when I spot an ogre coming straight for me.

"Oh no you don't." I muttered, as I pivot my legs into a running position.

I take off running towards the charging ogre. It swipes at me with its gigantic arm. I hit the ground sliding, narrowly avoiding certain death. I quickly pop back onto my feet, charging at its legs. My sword makes contact and slides deep into its muscular thigh. The frustrated roar from the ogre was deafening, it recovered quickly, which was frankly surprising. I missed a second blow to the opposite leg. The swing of my sword threw me off balance for the briefest of moments. That was all the time the ogre needed to get the jump on me.

It swooped me up with its hand and brought me up too its face. I'm being squeezed so tightly that I can barely breathe. I'm scared, stuck and don't know what too do. All I can do is squirm in its huge hand. I try to call out to Duncan. My words die in my throat as it roars in my face. The smell and mucus makes me vomit all over its hand. The ogre doesn't seem too mind my stomach contents at all.

I search wildly around for some form of help. Someone to call out to. I search for Duncan. I can not see him anywhere. Slowly, I turned back to the ogre, who is flashing a wide toothy grin. I know I'm going to die.

I'm sad I wont be able too do the things I said I would do after this battle, but there is no time for regret. I think of my life up until now and instead I make peace with myself. It's all I can do and it oddly brings me comfort. At least I can die with a smile on my face and very little regret in my heart.

"Celene..."

* * *

**Kocari Wilds**

**November 9****th** **2009**

**4:55AM**

**Morrigan**

I know it is time before mother even says anything. Why she feels the need to save all of these people is beyond me. Alas, in my many years with Flemeth, I have learned not to question her judgment. Sadly, she is usually right. No matter how insane it may sound to the ears of others.

"Come girl, we have things to do and places to be." Flemeth said, walking out the door before I could say anything.

An exasperated sigh escapes me as push up from my bed. Flemeth is already taking on her form as a dragon. Practical to be sure since we have a lot of passengers to rescue. It will also scare the shit out of dawnspawn and humans alike.

"Don't give me that look child."

"What look? I'm giving you no look." I say, knowing full well what she means.

"Stop pretending the both of us are stupid and change already," said my exasperated mother. I do enjoy getting a rise out of her. It's easier to do the older she gets.

I clear my mind of thought and picture the animal I wish to be. My bones begin breaking and reshaping within my body. The skin surrounding my slender frame is replaced by feathers. Unlike my mother, who can change into a huge dragon at any given moment, my change requires a little more time. I've changed into birds before. However, this my first time becoming a freakishly sizable bird. An over-sized hawk to be exact. I'm almost positive some idiot will mistake me for a griffin and make a big fuss. Morons tend to make something out of nothing.

It's far less painful than I imagined. Bone breaking is always horribly painful, but I have transformed into animals my entire life. I've learned to work pass the mind-numbing pain.

"We're late. Let's get moving girl." My mother flew in to the distance before I could argue.

I don't understand why mother feels the need to rescue these people. They don't appear to be anything special to me. Sadly, mother believes differently and believes it enough to save them all from a certain death. I couldn't get much out of Flemeth on the situation other than they each have important role to play in events too come. 'Tis all very cryptic and stupid if you ask me.

Spreading my huge wings and with some effort, struggle to get off the ground. After several failed attempts I was airborne. After this venture I've decided I'm sticking to small birds. Being this big is a pain in the ass.

It doesn't take me long to reach Ostagar. Looking down upon the battlefield, I am hardly surprised to find it littered with bodies. Mostly those of humans and very few darkspawn.

Mother is hovering above a rundown old tower. She's waiting for me and does not look thrilled with me upon my arrival.

"Enjoying the field view?" An edge of annoyance in her tone.

I could answer her, but just want to finish this damned pick up as soon as possible. I shrug my wings.

Flemeth lands on the roof of the tower, I slowly follow suit and am slightly elated when I actually manage to land on my feet.

"It won't be long now," Flemeth says, as she looks off into the distance. I follow her gaze and spot a group of silver armored soldiers leaving the battlefield."Things are happening as I have seen. It really is a pity."

"Why is it a pity?" I wonder what the hell the crazy old bat is talking about.

"Never you mind girl. Just do everything as I instructed and everything will work itself out."

Oh how I love my nonsensical, bat shit crazy mother.

"Can we get a move on?" I beg.

"No child. The moment for our intervention will present itself very soon. Until then all we can do is wait."

Oh good. More waiting. It is going to be a long night.


	15. Coming together

**A/N: **Here we are again. You. Me. A new chapter. About bloody time I say. I could make excuses, but really I'm fucking lazy. Hopefully, I'll be updating a little more regularly from now on. I say this every time I put out a chapter, and I swear one of these times I'll actually follow through.

A couple of things about this chapter. Duncan is done a little differently here. You will notice it's been attacked by italics. After much brainstorming with my wonderful editor, we decided it would be best to NOT do this bit a journal entry format, but more of a "in his head" format.

I didn't mean to make Alistair's part in this so short. It just kind of happened that way.

Thank you to the ever wonderful alyssacousland for making this chapter readable for all. If you haven't read her fics please do. They are fantastic. She also just released two brand new one-shot fics that are adorable and will leave you smiling.

Thanks for reading. Enjoy!

**xxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Ostagar, Battlefield**

**November 9****th** **2009**

**4:47am**

**Duncan**

_The king does know how to hold his own in a battle. I have fought with him before, but his skill is always surprising. I am fully aware I am basing this opinion on his nonchalant attitude outside of the battlefield, but I can hardly help it. This punk king really does know how to use a sword. That is another shock. I pegged him as a gunman. If only for the loud sound it makes. I think normally he would have picked a rifle; his decision might have come from seeing most of the wardens picking up their own daggers and swords. The king not only wants to be a legend, but I believe, somewhere deep down, he longs to be a warden. To belong to something important. Whether it's to stroke his ego or not is something only he knows._

_At this point I think it would have been a good idea to have at least brought a pistol with me. It would make short work of these Genlocks who are constantly attempting to flank me. Guns hold no interest for me,(up until now that is). Using the sword is an art form. It is all about control and focus. I hardly claim to be a master of sword play, but I like to believe I'm damn close._

_Out of the corner of my eye, I see a huge light flash from Ishal. Momentarily, hope bubbles within me. Thank the Maker the new recruits made it to the tower in once piece. I dread them coming down to join in with the battle; I know how young, optimistic blood works. Hell, I was there once. The heat of battle. Making a difference in the world. In this case, having all of them here might not be such a bad thing, although I would like to avoid losing any more wardens. We are so few and far between as it is._

_The sight of Loghain and his skilled soldiers would be a relief at this point. After several moments and no signs of any backup; the sounds of a loud retreat over a megaphone filled the air. We would have no help. I had a feeling he would do something like this, yet I had hoped to be wrong. I knew there was much doubt and fear within Loghain, but to leave the king like this? I hope they cut off his balls and feed them to a starving mabari._

_I did not see Loghain and his men leave the field, but it was obvious by the enraged look on Cailan's face that he had. __There was no time to dwell on our predicament. There would be plenty of time to curse Loghain's name later, right now we needed to get out of Ostagar. The king was reluctant at first; after a glance over the battlefield, he eventually gave in to retreat. We fought our way through countless darkspawn in order to reach our intended escape route. If we could make it to the courtyard in Ishal, I knew of a path leading away from Ostagar. The problem is all the darkspawn between here and there. And not dying would be good._

_Normally, I am able to sense a large darkspawn without any problem. With this many of them together at once, the ogre was able to slip by my radar. Giving me little time for a reaction._

_I wasn't even able to get my sword up, before it swat me aside as if I were a fly on his nose. I hit the ground. Hard. I attempt to push myself up. Pain shot through my left arm and ribs. I fell back to the ground hissing and grimacing in pain. Slowly, I turned my head to follow the ogre's movements. It ignored all other humans and made a beeline straight for the king. I tried to scream out to Cailian, but to no sound came. I just hoped that the king could hold his own until I could gather my bearings._

_I watched helplessly as the king managed to thwart the ogre's attacks. Cailian was able to get in several good swings, before the ogre grabbed him and lifted him up in mid air._

"_No." I muttered, as I fought through the pain and pushed myself from the ground. I wasn't fast enough. The ogre roared in Cailian's face, snapping his spine and throwing him aside._

_The king's lifeless body lay broken on the ground. I considered limping towards Cailian's body, checking for any signs of life, but I knew it would be pointless. He had been crushed - no one could survived that. I gathered all my strength and lurched towards the ogre, who was roaring his victory. It is my mission to make sure his glory is short lived._

_I launch myself from the ground, my blade at the ready to sink into its thick skull. I take it by surprise, which allows me some advantage. My sword hits the ogre in the middle of its forehead. I sink my blade as far into its skull as I possibly can. Blood splashes back in my face; it burns my skin. I ignore the pain a simply push with all the strength I have left. The ogre releases an ear shattering roar of pain. It moves erratically around in an attempt to throw me off, with little success. Once I'm sure my blade I pull the hilt downwards through its face._

_It all seemed so slow in my own mind, but in reality it took but only a moment to kill the ogre. Falling to the ground hurt much more than actually leaping to the ground. I dropped to one knee and grimaced in pain._

_The ogre flailed its arms around wildly, looking for anything to steady its body weight. There was nothing to hold. It slumped to the ground, where I am sure it would bleed out and die from its face wound._

_I push myself up to my feet. My ribs hurt with each breath, but I somehow manage to haul myself over to the king's body. His body is contorted in ways no human limbs should ever be. It is a painful sight to behold._

_Even more painful was watching my fellow brothers and sisters being overtaken by darkspawn. This should not be happening. These darkspawn should not be getting the better of us. I could whine internally all I want, but it will not change the outcome. We are meant to die here today._

_For a moment I am irrationally angry at Cailian. We should have waited for the Redcliffe and Orleasian armies to arrive. If he hadn't antagonized Loghain so often, then perhaps we might have stood a chance with a bigger army. Now we will never know. I suppose it does no good to dwell on what might have been. It also does little good to be angry with a dead man. Would have. Could have. Should have._

_The sudden pain from my ribs is powerful enough to drop me to my knees. I no longer have the strength to hold myself up, much less daggers. All I can do is watch as men and women are dismembered by the darkspawn. I glance up at the lit beacon. Once a sign of hope, it is now one of betrayal._

_I think back to my new wardens. They are a odd group of misfits, but each has remarkable skill and potential to be something great. Stopping this blight will rest upon their shoulders. If any group of beings can pull off such a monumental task, it will be there. They will be fine with Alistair there. He's been a warden long enough to give them the basics. I just hope they will be able to find a senior Warden before taking out the Archdemon. If not, it will be a long fight._

_In the distance I see an Alpha Darkspawn give a scream, raise its ax and run at full speed towards me. I've seen this coming for some time now. I knew my time was coming. I'd rather go down fighting darkspawn on a battlefield than the Deep Roads. Call it a warrior's last egotistical wish if you will._

_As it raises its longsword and brings it down onto my neck; my life flashes in my mind. I can't help but smile. I regret nothing. Okay. Well, maybe a few things, but not enough to feel bad about them in the moments before I die._

_There was a split moment where I could actually feel its blade piece my neck. It hurt like a mother fucker. I resist the urge to bring my hands up and apply pressure to my wound in order to stop the bleeding. At this point I know it will do me little good. The cut is too deep._

_I do not scream in pain or fear. partially because I can't, but it's mainly because I don't want to give this asshole the satisfaction of knowing it's caused me any kind of agony. I flash my monstrous killer a smile. It cocks its head as it brings back its axe for a finishing blow._

_I close my eyes and await the inevitable._

_As my heart begins to slow, breathing becomes more labored, and muscles begin to spasm; I smile up at the sky. It is something we never take the time to admire, but it is something truly massive and beautiful. My vision beings to leave me, but I'm glad it is the last thing I will see. It allows me to feel something I haven't felt in a very long time._

_I am at peace with myself and the world around me._

**xxxxxxxxx****xxxx**

**Ostagar Battlefield**

**November 9****th** **2009**

**4:58am**

**Trent**

Corpses lie all around me. Even as skilled as I am in both magic and weapons, there is no way I can take out all of these isn't much time. I need to find Carver and get the fuck out of here. Cowardly I know, but I am really not up for dying today.

I cut my way through the genlocks surrounding me as I frantically search the field. Which believe me when I say it's not as easy as it sounds. It is difficult to spot one soldier in a field filled with similarly dressed soldiers. Suppose I should start looking at the men who aren't running away from the horde. My brother is a proud, cocky and exceedingly stupid asshole who believes he can take on anything.

As I make my way through the field I spot two bodies. I recognize that of our king. My heart drops a little at the sight. It drops even further when I see the Warden-Commander's body lying next to Cailian. If these darkspawn can take out an experienced darkspawn hunter and a king, then what chance do we have? Yes. I do believe it's time to hightail out of here.

In my own mind, it takes me far too long to find my brother. When I do, he is fighting two genlocks. Like the moron that he is, Carver is screaming like a banshee while waving his sword around aimlessly. What a fucking idiot.

Once I am close enough to the action, I use a mind blast spell. It sends the genlocks backwards. Taking advantage of their disoriented state, I blast both of them with a fire spell, which quickly incinerates both of them.

Carver looks around the battlefield. He is about ready to scream at the bastard who would dare steal his battle glory. Once his eyes meet mine, his demeanor changes to something resembling disdain. That is a look I am well accustomed to.

"You aren't supposed to be here," he hissed as I approached.

I flashed a sardonic grin.

"A happy hello to you too. You're welcome little brother. I was all too happy to risk my own life in order to save you from a timely death," I continue to grin. Only because I know he hates it.

"Don't you mean untimely?"

"No. No I really didn't. Fortunately for you, mum would kill me if she knew I just left you here to rot. So get a move on and follow me." I say, knowing full well he would have a problem with this plan. He's always had problems following others.

"I'm not going anywhere." His ever defiant nature poked through. Normally I would roll my eyes and laugh. Today I have no patience for his attitude.

I quickly move in front of him, grab him by the collar of his shirt; bringing my face within inches of his.

"Listen closely, you arrogant little shit. I am not going to be the one to explain to mum, how I just left you here to die with the king and the rest of his men. Take a look around you. Look at all the corpses. Notice there aren't many darkspawn among them. There are thousands of them and a handful of us. Knowing that, how long do you think you'll survive?" He opened his mouth to answer. "It was a rhetorical question, you dolt. I'm not going to stand here and argue with you anymore. You can either follow me, or allow your ego to be the death of you."

I released his collar and turned on my heels. I didn't look back to make sure he followed. I knew he would.

I knew of a trail just outside of Ostagar. It would take us through the wilds, and back to Lothering. Cutting through the Wilds was risky, but hopefully most of the horde would be too preoccupied with Ostagar to pay us any mind.

I could see the gate opening on the far side of the camp. Since there were darkspawn coming at me from nearly every direction, I thought it best to run like hell. I took off as fast as my legs could carry me. I could hear heavy footsteps and wheezing of someone who doesn't run much from behind me. I knew it was Carver. Does it make me a horrible brother that I'm kind of sad he decided to follow? Harsh I know, but just get to know him a little. He grows on a person. Much like mold growing slowly on bread.

We manage to make it through the gates with very few scrapes or bruises. Nothing short of a miracle if you ask me. There are very few darkspawn stragglers wandering about The Wilds. The few we do come across, we are able to dispatch of without incident.

I keep my eyes open for any abandoned cars on the road. What few there are have been trampled by the hoard. Rat bastards ruining my half-assed escape plan! I have no problem walking, but I know at any moment Carver is going to start whining. I'd like to avoid that before I have to poke him with the pointy end of my staff. Yes. I am aware of how wrong that sounded.

"How much longer do we have to walk through this mud shit?" Carver's complaining has started earlier than I thought it would.

I stop and look down at his pants. I can't help but chuckle.

"Really? You're covered in blood and guts. But you're worried about a bit of mud on your pants?" If I'm forced to kill my brother, just know I did it for humanity.

He gave me his ever famous "shut the fuck up." look. It's the look he sports right after he knows he's said something stupid, but just simply couldn't stop himself. The guy loves his own voice. I guess that makes one of us.

We continue down a side trail that I know leads directly to Lothering. Carver walks some distance behind me, brooding in silence. I knew in the back of my mind that this self-imposed quiet game could end at any given moment. So, the search for a car continues.

"Why were you there?" Asks a snippy Carver. I assume he means Ostagar.

"To steal your thunder of course. Why else would I cut my leave short?" My monotone response annoys the ever-living shit out of him. If only because he's too stupid to understand whether I'm joking or not.

Actually, my brother isn't stupid. He is really quite smart when he wants to be. The intelligence is just suppressed by his short temper.

"No need to be a dick."

The sounds of my own laughter fills the otherwise silent Wilds. Being the biggest dick I know, I find his observation of my potential dickdom to be ironic. Pot calling the kettle black and all.

"Fuck off." Carver grumbled, as he shoved me aside. I let him lead, if only to follow behind him and laugh.

"Carver? Is that dried piss on your pant legs?" I know it is. He knows it is. I'm simply want to hear him say what we both know. I see this as a time to bond. Also, I see it as a way to make a long, uncomfortable trip a little more bearable, given the lack of a car situation.

"Why do you do this?" he asks.

"Do what? Point out of the obvious? Or tease you?" I ask, momentarily taken back by not just the question, but his tone. Serious. Not filled with bitterness and loathing.

"Pick on me; make me feel stupid."

Yep. I should have seen the victim situation coming from a mile away.

"Because you beg for it." I state simply.

Carver bunched his hands up in to a fist at his sides. He wants to take a swing at me, but he knows better. He forces a laugh, which sounds more like a dry cough.

"Yes. Because that makes a shit ton of sense. I'm constantly begging you, my dear brother, to go out of your way to make me feel stupid." The venom in his tone came across loud and clear.

He wants honesty. Fine. I'll give him honesty.

"You, dearest brother of mine, are an attention whore. So you do stupid shit, pout when you don't get your way, and say anything you damn well please, knowing full well you'll get attention for it. Mum puts up with it because she believes that's just how boys are. She is absolutely right. It's _you_ being a boy. Can't quite make that leap into a manhood, much less a teenager. For you, throwing a temper tantrum will always be the answer," I allow that to sink in for a moment. His heightened pace, clinched jaw and bunched fists tells me how pissed off he is. "I don't think you're stupid. Far from it. I think you're an asshole. So I treat you like one because no one else does."

Much to my surprise, he remained silent, but walking (practically jogging), as if his feet were on fire. Either he's so angry that he can't think of anything that would hurt me. Or, the less likely option is him actually thinking about what I've said. Stewing in his anger is more his style. Let him drown in his sea of loathing.

After what feels like hours of walking, we make our way out of the Wilds. Which means we are at the halfway point to Lothering. I will be a happy man if I never have to walk through another forest again. The smooth pavement is a welcomed break after all the dirt trails. Also, as luck would have it, there just so happened to be a car on the side of the road. I would have rather found this sooner rather than later, but finding it now cuts our walking time down by several hours.

"Get in." I bark at Carver, who is giving me a rather detestable look. I ignore him and hop in to the driver's side.

"You're into stealing cars now?" he sneers as he slides into the passenger seat.

I say nothing, as I am struggling to hot wire this piece of shit. Fuck it, magic will have to start this thing up. I give it a quick charge with a weak lightning spell and then quietly thank the Maker when the engine roars to life. Then I hit the gas pedal, and the car lurches forward. It's by no means a speedy car. When I say POS, I mean just that. Hell, there isn't even a radio in this damn thing. But, this rust-riddled death trap is still faster than walking.

"What the hell were you doing in the Kings army anyway?" Carver stupidly asks. He knows the answer, this is just his way of making small talk. Plus, he enjoys the sounds of his own voice.

"I was asked to be there by our king. Actually, by the royal military, but it's pretty much the same thing. How long ago did you join?" I asked. I'm not surprised he joined the military. I always kind of assumed he would, if only to prove he could be a better soldier than I. Sibling rivalry at its finest here folks.

He thought about the question for a moment.

"I joined a five months after you left for Tevinter. So about a two and a half years ago," he stated proudly.

"Is it everything you thought it would be?"

"I suppose it is. Don't particularly care for all of the politics involved, also not a huge fan of all the rules. The pay really sucks. Early mornings aren't my thing either. On the bright side, the benefits are decent. The base is close to home, so I can check in on mum and Bethany. I've made some decent friends. Even if they are a little dumb. Hanging out with them makes me feel smarter," he boasts.

Damn. He started out so well. Then he had to go and tap into his ego. What a flipping douche bag. It's a wonder he has anyone who is willing to hang out with him.

"Good to know even in the military you can still manage to use people. Go with your strengths Carver." I sound as disinterested as I possibly can.

Next to me, Carver sighs, stretches his arms and places them behind his head.

"So I hear Highever isn't standing anymore. Wasn't your girl toy the Teyrn's daughter or something?" He tries to sound bored, and follows this question with a yawn to emphasize this fact.

I grip the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles are white. The urge to stop the car and beat the ever living shit out of my brother is tempting. So very tempting.

"Yes. I heard that on the news a couple of days ago. Sad business." I keep my voice even and calm. Thankfully, that was enough to kill all conversation. We remained silent until we pulled into Lothering

There were hundreds of people lined up on the Lothering bridge. Why any of them decided to take the damn bridge instead of the main entrance into town is beyond me; to each their own, I suppose. There were four templars guarding the road into Lothering. One held up his hand, ordering us to stop the car. Being such a law-abiding citizen, I did as such.

"Drivers license," he droned. It was obvious this bloke did not enjoy his post in the slightest.

"Not that I have a problem with handing it over. But why?" I reach in to my pocket for my wallet, pull out my license and handed it to the happy, armored fellow. Carver did the same.

"What do you mean 'why'?" He droned dully, as he handed Carver back his I.D.

"I mean, we're obviously human beings. I doubt darkspawn can drive a car. Don't quote me on that, but I somehow doubt it," I pause to allow that to sink in. When the templar only stares at me like a doe in headlights, I decide to continue. "When the darkspawn actually do come through, do you plan on asking them for their I.D? I think they'll be more inclined to poke you with the sharp end of their sword. Again don't quote me on that one, but it's more likely that they will."

The surrounding templars snicker. The happy fellow in front of us doesn't find me as amusing although he does smirk slightly. I might be wrong about that though. It might have been a sneer.

"Trent. You think you're amusing, but you're really being a douche." Carver muttered.

"I'm not trying to be amusing. It's a serious concern for these good chap's well-being and safety." I only half mean this.

I honestly don't understand the reason behind asking for an obvious human's I.D. It seems like a waste of time. However, I know these poor blokes are just following orders. Doesn't mean I can't have a bit of fun with them. Plus, they have a maleficarum right under their nose and they don't even know it. That, in itself, is most amusing of all.

"Here is your I.D. You can go in." He sighed as if he was glad to be rid of us. Well that is just rude. Here I thought I was being witty and charming.

I excitedly looked at Carver.

"Did you hear that brother! We've been identified as humans! We can go socialize with others of our kind now! Happy days are here at last!" I exclaim.

Carver simply shakes his head and rolls his eyes.

"Get the fuck out of here before I run the pointy end of my sword through you," said the grumpy templar.

I smiled brightly at Grumpy Gus.

"Of course cheer bear. It's been an absolute delight," I say as I drive past and into town.

"You are such a fucktard," Carver mutters bitterly.

"Guilty as charged, I suppose."

Our conversation is thankfully cut short when we turn into my mother's driveway. This was the longest drive of my life and let's be honest for a moment, I'm anxious to see my mum. I've missed her. I practically run through the front door. Carver isn't far behind. Guess I'm not the only one here happy to be home.

"Oh, thank Andraste!" My mother practically yells. She runs to Carver and me, wrapping her arm around us both and pulling us in to an awkward group hug.

"Mother. We need you and Bethany to start packing. Take what you need and leave the rest for the darkspawn," Caver said as he unwrapped himself from my mother's grasp.

My mum pulled away and I could see the worry in her eyes. I know she does not want to leave her home. She also knows that she has little choice in the matter.

"I know, it's been all over the news. The have a darkspawn horde watch, letting us know exactly where there are. They have helicopters covering the area and everything," she pauses, looking at Bethany's bedroom. " Bethany is in her room gathering what she can. I've already done the same." There was sadness in her voice. Before I could say anything, she turns and enters her room. No doubt to gather what she has packed.

"Trent! Carver! I'm so happy the both of you are alive," my sister yells from her room. "There have been all sorts of evacuation notices on the news. The templars are telling people to be prepared to leave. Are they really coming this way? I mean we're a bit out of their way aren't we?"

I enter her room to see her sitting on the edge of her bed. She does not look at me as I enter. She doesn't want me to see how red her eyes are from crying. I take a seat next to her and grip her right hand in my own.

"I believe it's highly likely. Last I saw, the horde was dead set on taking Ostagar. But it won't take them long to reach Lothering."

"Can't we stay just a little longer?" She begs.

"Beth. The longer we stay, the harder it will be for us to leave." I argue, knowing full well I'm going to lose.

"There are so many refugees coming in. Most of them need healing in some capacity. I want to stay and help them," she says, giving me her ever famous 'Bethany puppy-dog eyes'. I look away before it can work its magic on me, but it's too late.

"Fine," I sigh. "Ten people. No more and no less. Ten and after that we are gone."

Pushing myself up from her bed, I walk towards her door. I don't need to look back to know the little monkey is grinning from ear to ear. I enter the living room, and sit down next to Carver. The moment I sit, he chuckles and shakes his head.

"You are such a puss."

I am in no mood to play the wit game. Instead, I turn to him, punching him in the arm as hard as I possibly can. He screams out in pain, and I'm pretty sure there are tears in his eyes. This gives me much in the way of satisfaction. Would have been better if he started crying. I'll get what pleasure I can from this.

We sit in silence, watching the news on T.V. I'm silently thinking up ways to talk Bethany into leaving now, but her reason is noble enough. It's pointless talking a stubborn woman out of anything. I've learned this the hard way. It always ends with me caving, and Beth prancing about like a ninny. Let's just hope her bleeding heart won't lead to our untimely and horrific demise.

**Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

**Tower of Ishal**

**November 9****th** **2009**

**4:58am**

**Alistair**

My brain cannot comprehend what it has just witnessed. How can Duncan and Cailian both be dead? Why didn't I run down there and help them? I could have done something. Could have stopped that ogre. All I could do was stand here like a dumbstruck dolt and watch.

How could Loghain do that to his own king? How could he stab his own country in the back? We could have at least slowed the progress of this Blight a little bit. I doubt Loghain thought of that when leaving the field. I doubt he thought of little else than saving himself and his men. I will kill him should I ever see him. It will be very slow and extremely painful. I am fully aware this is my grief talking. I don't actually take joy from killing others, but after seeing what went on down here, I believe I could possibly take some satisfaction from torturing that son of a bitch.

I watched my brothers-in-arms die. That was just as hard to watch. Why the hell did Duncan send us here? Did he somehow see this coming? Did he want to keep us out of harm's way? The lot of us should have been down there fighting. Not wasting our time lighting the way for backup that would never come.

The darkspawn are cutting through people as if they were nothing. Hell. If they could kill Duncan so easily, killing regular soldiers would be no problem. I want Loghain to pay for what he's done. But more importantly, I want every single one of these Darkspawn dead and gone. But how can we stop them from doing the whole world domination thing?

I could dwell on all of these questions a lot longer, but someone is pulling at my arm. I tear my attention from the scene outside the window. Pamela is frantically pulling at me, yelling at me to move. I want to move, I know I need to, but my legs simply won't cooperate.

I feel a sharp pain in my backside. I yelp and jump in surprise. I wrench my arm from Pamela and turn to see where the source of my pain is coming from. I catch Jessica as her right leg comes down to the ground. She kicked me! Screaming in my ear would have been much more preferable. Bitch has steel-toed boots on and that shit hurts.

"What the hell Jess?" I yell in her face. I know why she kicked me. Hell, I would have done the same thing, but at that moment I needed to yell at someone. She pisses me off and she's right here in front of me. She gives me her ever famous emotionless blank stare.

"I know you're sad; we all are, but we need to move before we are greatly outnumbered." She turns on her heels and starts for the door.

I know she's right. We all do, so we follow. Before we can reach the stairs, darkspawn come pouring through the door toward us. We jump in to action, but it is a little too late. We hardly have the upper hand, and are greatly outnumbered.

I get a dagger in my arm, which, for the record, hurts like a mother fucker. My reflexes take over. Lifting up my .40 mm handgun, I take aim at whichever darkspawn is closest. I assume this genlock is the bugger who shanked me. I shoot it in the face. Its face explodes into a thousand pieces. I don't take the time to watch it slump over dead. I take out one or two more genlocks before I'm brought to the ground.

This is is all happening so fast, I'm not sure how many darkspawn are on top of me. Three to five I'm guessing. I suppose it doesn't really matter. When one is being stabbed repeatedly, the trivial things tend not to matter much anymore. I struggle and fight against my attackers, but there are three of them and only one of me. I am not going to win these odds, but it still doesn't stop me from trying.

Even through the agonizing, burning pain, I manage to turn my head so I can get a view of everything around me. I see Jessica being taken down by an arrow through the heart; the darkspawn descend upon her body the moment she hits the ground. They stab anywhere that is not covered by armor. Even with an arrow in her and stab wounds everywhere, she is fighting back. With a dagger in her left hand, she's stabbing her attackers. Woman has spunk, I'll give her that.

In the distance I hear screaming. I turn my head to the left to see Pamela. The darkspawn easily stab through her robs. She is covered in her own blood. Our eyes meet and for a moment I forget my own pain. Her eyes fill with terror and tears of agony. She stretches out her hand towards me while screaming for help. I try to knock off the three beasts on top of me to no avail. I watch helplessly as an Alpha Hurlock runs a blade across her throat.

I turn my head away from the gruesome scene. I look around for Marlon. I find the elf near the stairwell. There's an arrow through his neck and I can't tell if he's alive or dead. I suppose it doesn't matter much anymore.

We are all going to die here.

Suddenly, the darkspawn that are on top of me stop stabbing and look around. Frantic. Scared of something I cannot see. One of the beasts releases a high pitched yowl. A fire comes out of nowhere and incinerates them all at once. All around me I can hear pounding footsteps and growls of anger. The smell of burning flesh fills the air. Is it in bad taste to admit that makes me kind of hungry?

I don't have the energy to look for my would-be savior. My vision starts to blur. Everything is getting darker. I'm not really sure if I'm dying, or passing out from the pain of all my stab wounds. Either way, I welcome a bit of rest.

A blurry face comes into view. I squint in order to clear my vision, which is absolutely no help at all.

"Mother. You grab the stupid one and the elf. I'll grab the other two." Says a voice I very much so recognize.

"_Oh balls. Of all the people to be rescued by, it had to be the bitch of the Wilds. I'll die before I'm in that one's debt," _I think to myself.

"Make some room on my back girl. If you can't see for yourself, my back is neck deep in warden bodies." I assume this is Flemeth speaking.

Did the others survive as well? Since we are the last of the Wardens, I certainly hope so.

I feel myself being moved. Can't see by what or whom. At this point I don't much care. I allow the darkness to overwhelm me. Would it be overly dramatic to hope for death if only because I don't want to owe Morrigan and her crazy mother a damn thing?

Then I pass out. Or I die, I'm really not sure which.


	16. Reminiscing in Kirkwall

**A/N: It occurred to me about a month ago that I was missing someone in my human chapter. It nagged at me for a while, then I FINALLY remembered "SHIT! NATHANIEL!". Because I feel completely and utterly silly for leaving him out, I decided he needs his very own chapter. Better late than never I suppose. Ooops! **

**Thanks to alyssacousland for her usual fantastic editing. Thanks to everyone who takes the time out of their day to read this guilt/obvious filler chapter. **

* * *

**Kirkwall**

**November 9th, 2009**

**10:10 am**

**Nathaniel**

The sun shines brightly through my uncovered windows. The light relentlessly attacked my eyes until I gave in to consciousness and sat up in my bed. Now that the demon orb from above has denied me some much needed sleeping in, I stretch all my limbs that are in need of waking. I slowly get out of bed and stumble towards my coffee machine. Yesterday's cold coffee awaits me. Since I'm far too Maker-damned lazy to make a new pot, I turn on the machine in order to heat up the half filled pot. I fill my mug up with the cold elixir of life in order to hold me over until my left overs are heated.

Were I still in the military, I would be doing the same exact thing, only difference being a much earlier waking and coffee drinking schedule. I know you're asking "why aren't you still in the military? It sure beats living in a Kirkwall, red-light district hotel room." It really is not any better. Military life is something that has been instilled in me early on. Growing up, I would constantly hear tales of my father's great victories over Orlais. If he can do it, why can't I? My father sent me to the best military academy money could buy in the Free Marches when I was 14. I'm not bitter or angry at my father for sending me away. Hell, all I wanted was to be a hero just like him. Fight wars, win battles and be revered as a hero. Deep down I suppose I still want that, although I know chances of that happening now are slim to none.

Going through basic training was a breeze. After that, I was stationed in Starkhaven for two years, then here in Kirkwall for my last two years. Since I am really not good with firearms of any kind (Bows are my thing, but dad must never know about it because bows aren't manly enough for an arl's son.), the military paid me to serve food to soldiers. When I wasn't serving food in the mess hall, I was standing guard outside some building or another. Both of these jobs are only fulfilling for so long. Once you find out a mess hall cook and night guard is all you are ever going to be, it diminishes the need to serve rather quickly. My commanding officer made it very clear: there would be no front line Tevinter battles for me. Hell, not even Ostagar. After my four years were up I opted out. I still have not told my dad about it yet. As far as he knows, I'm still happily dishing out slop to all in a uniform.

After I was released, I found life on the outside was not so easy. My severance from the military, and monthly check only covered so much. Meaning it covers this room and cable. I needed a job, but no one was hiring. I happened to know a couple of blokes from my academy days. Naturally, I looked them up to see if any of them knew of any job openings. After going out with all three of them several times, catching up and seeing how desperate for work I was, they told me they themselves were looking for someone. The money was good, and my military training wouldn't go to waste. I didn't care what the work was, so long as I got paid.

To say what I do is legal would be a lie. A big fat lie at that. Breaking into homes and stealing from the rich assholes of Kirkwall. Since I'm poor, I consider myself a Robin Hood...of sorts. Years of Military training has at least left me with the gift of stealth and cat-like reflexes. Things like lock picking, running a card scam, pool and card hustling had to be taught to me by my colleagues. It's good money but not stable income. I'll be honest, I do it because it's a rush. The thrill of getting caught, and knowing I'm good enough to not get caught. I know my luck is bound to run out sooner or later; for now it's a bit of an ego boost that I haven't had my ass hauled off to jail.

Stepping on to my balcony, I am able to see the fair city of Kirkwall. The main reason I picked this hotel is for the view. Being on the third floor allows me an almost bird's eye view of the city. It makes picking marks so much easier.

This morning there appears to be a lack of marks, which is rather odd. The streets are usually filled with rich idiots by six in the morning. The streets are bare as bare could be. Not a soul on the street. As far as I can tell, not a business open either. Now this is extremely odd.

In the distance I hear the Chantry bells ring, as they usually do at 10, if only to let us know the time. These rings were different. Yes, there are different rings the chantry uses. These rings were consecutive, meaning there was a service being held. Perhaps this is why the town is so empty.

Now, I could get dressed, walk up to the Chantry and see for myself. That sounds like too much work before coffee, so I nix that idea and do the next best thing. I go inside, sit down on the couch and turn on the T.V. Surely the news does well enough to keep even the laziest of bastards well informed in world events.

Switching on the T.V., I'm met with an attractive female broadcaster. The words "Breaking news" flash across the screen. I'm curious as to how many other stations are covering this epic news. Before she can tell me what is going on, I switch the channel. The same headline as the first appears. I flip through more channels. The same story on every last one of them. I end up back on the first newscaster. Since it's being covered by every station here in Kirkwall, it must be a story of epic proportions. Might as well look at an attractive woman while receiving bad news. I lay the remote down, pick up my coffee and listen to her story.

"It has been a week of tragedy here in Ferelden. As most know, earlier this week we reported an attack on Highever. The Ferelden authorities are investigating this most tragic and unprovoked act of terrorism. So far there are no leads on the party or parties responsible for this horrendous act. However, it has been confirmed that there are no survivors, including popular and beloved Teyrn Bryce Cousland and his Wife Teyrnia Eleanor Cousland. Teyrn Cousland's two children, Fergus and Jessica Cousland are unaccounted for, but are presumed dead."

I almost spew my coffee all over myself.

"Who the hell would be stupid enough to take out the Couslands? That is just asking for trouble," I say aloud.

I am honestly shocked and saddened. I enjoyed the company of both Fergus and Jessica when I was younger. Jessica and I would sneak in to her father's armory and pine over his collection of swords, bows and guns. Fergus and I would talk about the latest rugby game. It's been a while since I've heard from either of them. Last I heard, they had both enlisted in the military. Fergus more at the bidding of his father. Jessica, I assume, joined to save everyone and kill things. It's just the kind of person I remember her being.

Good Maker. Not even eleven yet and already I'm considering giving up on my coffee and moving on to brandy.

I snap out of my memories and listen to what else the world has in store for me.

"With more on this story let us go live to Highever with our field correspondent, Slim Couldry, who is with Arl Rendon Howe and his thoughts on the situation."

My father's face takes the screen next to Slim's fat mug. The reporter does his best to smile into the camera. It looks unnatural and as if he is trying to hard. It is obvious to anyone with eyes that this guy does not want to be interviewing my father. Sadly, a typical reaction from most reporters.

My father looks solemnly at the camera. It's obvious he hasn't slept in a while. Cousland's death must have hit him hard. I feel for my old man.

"Arl Howe, I understand you and the Cousland family were close. I can't imagine how painful the loss of a best friend is."

My father gave the reporter a sad smile.

"I can't even begin to comprehend what has happened in Highever. The loss of a fellow noble and my best friend has hurt me and my family deeply. I will not rest until whomever or whatever has committed this terrible act is caught and brought to justice."

My father does his best to look determined. He only manages to pull off tired at best.

This news reporter smiles slyly at my father.

"Not much has been released to media outlets. But I did manage to sneak a peek within the castle walls. Could you tell me and everyone else why there were men with your Coat of Arms among the dead? I thought all of your men had been called to Ostagar by the King?"

For a moment my father is taken aback. The next moment, (and true to form), he gives the reporter a reassuring smile.

"Are you implying my men had something to do with what happened here?" My father retorts.

"Implying? I suppose I did imply. Allow me to rephrase that question then. Did you have something to do with the murder of Teyrn Cousland, his family, his men and all of his subjects whom I'm sure had family and loved ones?"

My father turns to the reporter, his lips pressed together in a thin line and glaring daggers at Slim.

"How dare you imply such a thing. My men were left here to provide assistance to Teyrn Cousland."

"What kind of assistance? Did the Teyrn not have his own men to assist him?"

"Most were sent to Ostagar with his son Fergus. I had men to spare, I merely offered their protection," my father snapped harshly. It was obvious his time with this reporter was almost done.

"A fine job they did," the reporter snorts. He places a hand on his ear piece. I assume his producers are screaming at him to salvage the situation. "Do you have a theory what might have happened here?" he drones, obviously unhappy with the line of questioning.

"We do have a bit of a darkspawn problem. It is very likely it was a small hoard. But really, I would rather not make assumptions."

Slim laughs and shakes his head. It's obvious both men want to end this interview for different reasons.

I kind of want to punch Slim in his fat face.

"Thank you for your time Arl Howe. Back to you Diana."

The camera cuts away before we can see the aftermath of the interview. Suddenly the beautiful reporter is back and looking uncomfortable. "Thank you Slim for that thought-provoking interview."

I decide to get up and pour myself a shot of Brandy. It's going to be one of those mornings. I sit back down on my couch and listen to what Diana has to tell me.

"Our top story of the hour. If you are just joining us; King Cailan has tragically died. He was killed in Ostagar sometime last night during an attack of a horde of Darkspawn..."

She drones on and on. My ears suddenly stop working and I don't pick up on anything else she says. Holy hell. The King of Ferelden is dead. That would explain the service bells and a lack of people on the streets.

At the same time, I am rather surprised Kirkwall would show any respect to fallen Ferelden royalty. It isn't as if the Free Marches and Ferelden are close. I suppose King Cailan was more respected than I thought.

It may be the drink in my head, but I decide to turn off the T.V. I get dressed as quickly as I can and walk to the Chantry. Hell, he was my king. I should show my respects and pray for his wandering soul.

The walk to the Chantry is about five minutes on foot, and uneventful. The interview with my father plays over and over again in my head. The urge to punch that asshole of a reporter in his fat face is growing by the minute. My father may have killed Orlesians, but that was in a time of war. He would never sink so low as to kill so many unarmed people, or his friend. By the time I reach the Chantry I am seething at the implications.

As there are no seats left, I opt to stand at the back of the room. It is just as well, I'm not one for sitting in close quarters with people, (unless money is involved), for a long period of time.

Grand Cleric Elthina stands at the head of the room, spewing out words from the chant that she believes relates to this national tragedy.

The plan is to think a silent prayer and get the hell out. I almost succeed.

"I know we are not on the best of terms with our Ferelden brothers and sisters. This does not mean we cannot share in their grief." Elthina says.

This is where my plan fails.

"There is a young man here who has expressed the need to say a few words," Elthina pauses and looks to the front pew where the brothers and sisters sit. "Sebastian. Would you please share your thoughts with us."

By this time I am almost at the door. I will never know why I choose that moment to turn around. Standing at the head of the room was a familiar face. In my surprise I almost yelled: "No fucking way!", but I managed to keep my shock under control. And since I am now interested, I stay.

"Brothers and sisters," Sebastian starts. "let us for a moment put aside our differences with our neighbors in Ferelden. Instead we must remember King Cailan for the man he was. A man who did his best to keep the peace. Mend fences between countries. He was always a welcomed face here in Kirkwall. Let us pray that he has found his way and has been embraced by the Maker..." He drones on and on.

No fucking way Vael is a chantry boy. There is just no way. Yet there is proof in front of me that he is. I never would have seen it coming.

We met when we were teenagers back in the academy. Simply put, Vael was our resident party animal. Never met a drug or drink he didn't like. Pulling pranks on all of the teachers. Crashing parties and getting into fights. Sneaking out to sleep with beautiful women. The only reason he never received more than a slap on the wrist was because his daddy is an important person in Starkhaven. Daddy is also a major contributor to the military academy. To avoid stepping on King Daddy's toes, the academy merely handed him a detention slip and sent him on his merry way.

He calmed down a bit once he joined the military. We were in basic together and were about as close there as we were at the academy. Which is not very close at all. He learned rather quickly that Drill Sergeants don't give a rats ass who his daddy was, and would not hesitate to make him pay dearly for a mistake. He would still start a fight when he was bored though. Once a douche monkey, always a douche monkey.

Now he's a reformed Chantry thumping douche monkey. Knowing full well that he has an extreme nature, he's probably spreading his faith everywhere and shoving it down everyone's throat.

Sebastian drones on just as badly as Elthina did. I believe now would be the time to leave. I doubt he remembers me, but I'd rather not take the risk of that happening. There are several people along the way who glare at me, no doubt judging my leaving before the service is over. I merely smile back and walk on towards the door.

The moment I step outside there is a slight lift in the air around me. This is why I never attend services. Oppressive and crowded do nothing for me.

On the way back to my room I think about giving my father a call. It's been a long time since I've spoken with him. Damned near two years. I decide against it. Partially, because I'm afraid of the questions he will ask, and I'm sure he does not want my input on the situation. Father's number one rule has always been; "children should be neither seen, nor heard from." It's a rule I don't mind following nowadays.

Instead of calling dear old dad, once I reach my room I pick up the phone and call my associates. Since everyone in town is at the chantry, why not help ourselves to a few goodies from a house or two.

Hey, it's business.


	17. Broken

**A/N: Two updates done within the same year! I am on a role my dear readers! This isn't so much of a filler chapter as it is a setup chapter. **

**Thank you to my fantastic cohort alyssacousland for her magical ability to go through my jumbled messes and fix them. **

**Thank you to all of you who take the time to read and review this fic. **

**Enjoy.**

* * *

**Kocari Wilds**

**October 12th, 2009**

**12:00pm**

**Morrigan**

My home has been invaded by strangers. I do not like it at all. But, as mother informs me, what I like or dislike is of little concern to her.

Eight makeshift tents litter our front lawn. All but one of the wardens were up and wandering about. Jessica is still unconscious and recovering from her wounds. Hardly surprising since her wounds were most severe.

Some Wardens are outside cooking, while others set up a perimeter around the hut. Watching for darkspawn I assume. They will not find any, but if it sets their mind at ease who am I to tell them not to play the protector roll.

I look around the 'camp' and spy the dumb, blond warden down by the swamp. It appears as if he's been crying again. I do not understand why loss invokes such emotions. Crying for the dead is pointless. It will hardly bring them back, nor will it change what has happened. I say move on and live for the moment. Apparently, some humans enjoy falling on emotional swords and living in the past. It takes every ounce of strength I possess not to point and laugh at him. I have second thoughts when I notice the mage next to him. I assume she is doing her best to comfort him.

The morning mission is to see how Jessica's wounds are mending. I am honestly surprised mother was able to heal all of the wardens so quickly and thoroughly. But Jessica in particular was a challenge. She had missing limbs, and holes from arrowheads. 'Tis the slightly more impressive qualities about my Mother, how she is able to do things most mages only dream of doing. Will she teach me any of her magic? No matter how much I beg, the answer is always no. One day I will learn her old magic and use it for myself.

I enter the tent closest to the hut. There is still no change in the unconscious Warden. Moving to her bedroll, I carefully remove her bandages. Since her wounds are now completely healed, there is no need to redress her arms, legs and neck. Thank goodness I don't have to do that anymore.

Pushing myself up from the ground, I am about to leave the tent and throw away the bloody bandages; when from behind me there is a soft whiney moan and movement. I slowly turn to see her slowly coming back to consciousness. What a fortuitous turn of events!

The warden pushes herself up into a sitting position. It is almost painful to watch her struggle to sit up. I am sure days spent lying on the hard ground did her back no favors. A quizzical look is in her eyes as she stares at me.

"You are the woman from the wilds." She croaked.

"Indeed. In case you forgot my name, I am Morrigan. Can you tell me your name?" I ask. A memory check is in order. Just to be sure mother didn't miss any brain damage.

"I should hope that I wasn't hit so hard that I could forget my name is Jessica." She smiled faintly, followed by a series of coughs. I point to the bottle of water next to her bedroll. She waits until the coughing fit ends; then drinks the entire bottle in nearly one gulp.

"Do you remember anything before you were injured?" I ask.

"Oh yes. I recall everything. The battle. The king and Duncan both dying. Loghain leaving the field. Being attacked by darkspawn." She mutters bitterly.

"Good. Mother will be pleased at your lack of brain damage."

"Did anyone else make it out of Ostagar?"

I think of toying with her for a moment, but quickly dismiss the idea. The last thing she needs is to be teased so soon after her recovery.

"Your group of wardens were the only survivors we found. Although, we did not look very hard for anyone else. Mother said it was you are your group that mattered."

"That is something of a relief I suppose."

"Most of them appear to be adjusting well enough. Everyone but the blond-haired dim-witted one. He is not taking your king's death very well." I say, half sympathetically. If only because I assume apathy is what she needs to hear.

"I assume he would be. He was at that camp longer than all of us were, so he knew his highness and Duncan longer than we all did." There is no note of sympathy in her tone.

I shrug. "Now that you are up, I am sure mother would like to speak with all of you. Unless you have any more questions?" I hope she doesn't.

She of course does.

"How badly was I hurt?"

"Worse than anyone else, but 'twas not anything mother could not handle. You are better than new, minus a few scrapes mother might have left behind." I could have sugar coated, but that just isn't me.

"I'm curious. Why would your mother find it necessary to rescue just us newbie wardens?"

"Funny you should ask that. I wondered very much the same thing. Personally, I would have swooped down and rescued your king. Surely the nobles would pay handsomely for his safe return." Much to my surprise, she laughs.

"Just so you know, I am the daughter of a noble. Although, I don't think you would get much from anyone for me. More nobles want me dead than alive at the moment."

"Pity. Not that I have any practical need for money, but one never knows when it could be useful." A lie of course. Mother raised me to value power, and money is power.

"Do you know why your mother would want to speak with us?"

"I honestly have no idea why. She rarely shares her plots and plans with me." I say, as I make my way to the tent door. My subtle way of ending this Q&A session.

"Morrigan," she says. I stop before I reach the door. "Thank you for whatever part you played in saving us. We owe you a great debt."

At first I do not know how to respond to this. I don't take compliments or acts of kindness very well.

"Y...you're welcome, although, I did very little in the way of helping. Save your thanks for my mother. 'Twas she who did most of the work."

I leave before she can say anything more. I beeline straight for the hut, where I know mother is waiting for me. Flemeth is sitting at the kitchen table. Waiting for me no doubt. I sigh and take the seat across from mother.

"She is up and appears to be fine. Memories are intact as far as I can tell." I tell her. A sly smirk spreads across her lips. Nothing gives me the creeps as much as a smiling Flemeth. It means a plan is coming together just as she expected.

"Yes child, I know she is awake. They will be leaving in several hours." She looks at me and smiles again. "You do remember the plan, and everything I taught you."

I do not hide my disgust. I sneer and sigh.

"Yes mother, I remember the plan. I hardly like it, but I will do it."

"You do not have to like it girl, just know that this is all for the greater good." She states firmly, her smile quickly turning into the angry sneer that is far less creepier.

"Yes mother." I sound like a drone.

"I know you have your reservations about this. I would worry if you didn't. Just know that it is all part of a much bigger plan. A smaller piece to a rather large and complicated puzzle if you will."

"Enough with the analogies mother," I say as I stand up from my chair, knocking it over in the process. I am done with this conversation. "Go talk with the wardens."

"Watch how you speak to me Morrigan. I suggest you get yourself ready. Be outside in fifteen minutes." She hissed as she stood up from her chair. Before I could counter with angry words of my own, she was gone.

"Damn that old bat," I grumble aloud to myself, as I reach under my bed and pull out my duffel bag. I hardly have anything worth packing. A few tomes, some jewelry with magical properties, a few potion mixing materials. I don't pack any extra clothes since I don't have any. Clothes shopping has never been a huge priority for me. What I have on now will suffice for now.

It takes me only five minutes to pack. In order to waste some extra time, I fix myself a chicken and veggie sandwich. I sit and think about this journey I'm being forced to take part of. I'd be lying if I said I am completely and utterly against leaving this place. I've been wanting to see the world outside the wilds for several years now, but I've never really been given the opportunity to do so, until now. I wanted to leave on my own, not because flemeth needs me to travel with a group of wardens for the greater good. I really am tired of being her pawn in these games of hers. Sadly, she made a very convincing argument.

I finish my food, wash my hands and walk outside. The wardens are gathered around my mother, as if she were a wise old sage. I inwardly laugh at that idea.

"Then it is settled. We gather an army in order to take down the Archdemon." Said the blond dim-wit. It saddens me that I must travel with this man. I hope to the higher powers above that I can keep myself from turning him into a toad.

"It sounds like a wise plan," said my mother. Her eyes meet mine and she smiles. "Ah, Morrigan dear, our guest's are about to depart."

I feign to be relieved.

"I'll help everyone gather their things." I offer and start to walk towards the tents.

"No need my girl. You will be going with them."

"Such a pit...What?" I nearly yell in anger. I have many skills, acting just happens to be one of them.

"I know you are not deaf girl. You finally have your chance to leave the wilds. I know you have been longing to do so for some time now."

There were hushed talks among the wardens. No doubt discussing if I could possibly fit in amongst the group. Jessica was the first to step forward and speak.

"Our allies are few and far between at the moment, so we will take any help we can get."

Oh joy of joys. Camping, fighting and actually talking with people. 'Tis a regular dream come true.

I sigh in defeat before wordlessly turning back to the hut to grab my bag. I return to the sounds of the blond dim-wit arguing to leave me here. He is such a sweet guy.

"We have plenty of mages on our side. Do we really need one more?" He pointlessly argued.

"Alistair," The mage girl says. "Jessica has a good point. We need all the help we can get. Don't judge Morrigan by your few interactions with her."

What a little saint she is. She is one of those annoying people who sees the good in everyone. I'm already regretting agreeing to this whole venture.

"I think you're wrong, but if no one here but me has a problem with her coming with, then I suppose the majority wins."

"I can not even begin to express how thrilled I am that you are so willing to tolerate my presence. You are indeed a martyr among men."

He believes that his hard, angry glare has some kind of effect on me. Idiot.

I turn to my mother. "Goodbye, Mother. Do your best to get along without me." My own code which tells her that I will miss her.

"Bah!" She snorts. 'Tis her way of saying that she knows.

"I..." I fumble for the right words. Mother's eyes soften slightly and she gives me a rare smile.

"I know, dear girl. I know." She turns to the wardens. "I hope you all know the gift that I am giving you." Flemeth's way of saying that they are to bring me back safely. 'Tis odd how much comfort those words bring me.

"We do." Said Jessica. "Thank you for everything Flemeth."

No more words were said. The wardens went straight to work on taking down their tents, and gathering their belongings.

"Before we wander about aimlessly, might I suggest we visit a small town to the North. Lothering will have supplies and possibly a few jobs to make some coin," I suggest.

"We are in need of food, weapons and armor." The dwarf male interjects.

"Agreed. To Lothering it is then," Jessica says as she takes the lead of the group. I don't know if she has taken the lead out of habit or out of necessity. Either way, no one argues, but wordlessly fall in place behind her. I take the rear and stay far enough from everyone else, so as not to start a conversation with anyone.

We depart to Lothering on foot. What a long journey this is already and we have not even left the Wilds.

* * *

**Circle of Magi**

**November 12th, 2009**

**12:01pm**

**Wynne**

The journey from Ostagar back to the circle was long, and unsettling. The templars shoved us in to a bus we found on the side of the road and drove us back here. It was a quiet ride filled with tension. I kept replaying the horror on the battlefield in my mind. I can still see all of those men and women screaming in pain every time I close my eyes.

We have not had classes since our return. This is partially due to our mental state. Irving wants to be sure his senior mages are mentally stable before we teach anyone. However, there is another reason classes have been canceled. There is something happening within the circle walls. Whispers and rumors that must be taken seriously. They were going around not too long after Jowan escaped from the circle; I have a suspicion who has been starting these hushed rumors.

I am on my way to see this person of interest now. Uldred has never been the sanest of people, but I have never really considered him dangerous. My opinion changed just before we departed for Ostagar. He is more irritable than usual; resistant and even purposely insulting the Templars. Since he has given me reason to question his actions, I have been following him from a distance since our return to the circle. What I have discovered is not changing my mind about his behavior. There are secret meetings late at night. I am very interested to know what these meetings are about, but he is careful and places wards over doors.

However, there have been whispers of an uprising against the chantry and templars. This kind of talk is really nothing new. Every mage would love nothing more than live free from the watchful templar gazes. These rumors of a revolt have become so widespread across the circle, that Irving has no choice to to get involved. Or send me to get involved for him.

The first enchanter and I had a lengthy meeting today to discuss Uldred's recent attitude change. We agreed that one of us must talk to him. If reasoning with Uldred proves to be pointless, he will be made tranquil as soon as tonight. We've learned our lesson with the whole Jowan fiasco, so precautions must be taken to prevent any such thing from happening again.

A thought suddenly hits me that stops me dead in my tracks. Uldred is already one of the more powerful mages within the circle. If he has turned to blood magic, it will be hard for any templar here to stop him. If he has convinced any other mages to use blood magic - oh! The thought sends shivers down my spine. Let us hope I am making something out of nothing.

I push the very thought of blood magic to the back of my mind, and continue down the stone hallway. Every hallway I've passed is virtually empty. Typically, there are mages flooding the library, or gossiping. Yet another sign that something is not quite right. Fortunately, I do not need to ask anyone where to find Uldred. During the day he spends his time near the Harrowing Chamber. He preps young apprentices for their first visit to the Fade.

There are far too many stairs and floors leading up to the harrowing chamber. It does give me some time to come up with a plan. The direct approach is best when dealing with Uldred. The man is not one for small, petty talk. Best to grab the bull by the horns in this case.

As I enter the floor that leads to the chamber, I now know, without a shadow of a doubt, something is definitely wrong. I stop at the top of the stairs and search the surrounding room. There are the bodies of young apprentices and templars everywhere. Red pulp-like veins in the wall and spreading quickly. I run as fast as my legs will carry me to the outer harrowing chamber.

There is a young Templar near the harrowing door. He is trapped in a tall cylinder shaped sphere. He looks at me with fear and hatred.

"Get help mage! Get help now!" He yells, as if he believes I can not hear him.

I nod and quickly turn on my heels and run as fast as my old legs will carry me. I do not stop until I reach Irving's office. He is conveniently meeting with Knight-Commander Greagoir.

"Wynne my dear. Whatever is the matter?" Irving smiled and started towards me.

"Upstairs. Something. Wrong." I wheeze.

"Upstairs? Where upstairs?" Greagoir demands in his usual condescending tone.

"Harrowing. Chamber." I say.

"Is it Uldred?" Irving asks.

I honestly do not know how to answer that question. I want to say yes, if only because I am fairly certain it is. But I have no way of proving it is actually Uldred since I never actually went in to the chamber itself.

"Possibly. I just cannot be certain. " I said, finally catching my breath.

"I knew that one was trouble from the very beginning. You two stay here and keep everyone calm. I will take care of whatever is going on up there." Greagoir says, as he moves towards the door. Irving quickly catches up to him and places a hand on the Knight-Commander's shoulder.

"Greagoir. You believe every mage to be more trouble than they are worth. It is your attitude that will only make this situation worse," the First Enchanter says. Slowly he removes his hand from Greagoir's arm.

Greagoir looks back at me and sighs. "Not every mage," he mumbles. At least that is what I believe he says. Irving either does not hear, or pretends not to, as he starts off for the door.

"The both of you keep watch and stay on your guard. If it is Uldred, I will try and reason with him." Irving leaves before either Greagoir or I can protest.

Greagoir looks from the door back to me and sighs.

"Check on the other mages. Tell them to stay in d..." He trails off as a rage demon appears before us.

The demon appears to be just as confused as we are. But it spots me, releases a mighty roar and heads directly to me. This is a more powerful demon, so instead of using my staff, I wave my hands in the air, muttering the words to a stronger spell - one that I hope will bring the demon down faster. Unfortunately, the spell does not work as I planned. I see only ice will finally kill it.

Greagoir is slashing away at the rage demon. Slowly wearing it down. I cast my ice-cone spell. The rage demon freezes in mid-strike.

"Hit it with your sword now," I yell. Greagoir does not question my direction. He strikes the demon in the neck. The frozen body shatters into a thousand pieces and soon disappears altogether.

We look at one another for a moment. I am making sure his wounds are not serious. He is making sure I am not possessed. I almost laugh aloud. If only he knew.

Wordlessly, we bolt through the door together. There are screams coming from every room on the second floor. My first instinct is to help them, but I know I cannot help them all. A few templars that are not fighting, follow Greagoir and myself, as we make our way through the library. There are bodies of mages and templars everywhere, abominations hover over the bodies, almost admiring their handy work. Instead of fighting them, we run past the demons. There is no point is saving those already dead.

In the hallway leading from the library, I see a fellow senior mage, Petra. She is protecting a small group of survivors from the oncoming demons. Since I cannot run and talk at the same time, I motion for her to follow us. She and her charges do so without question.

We stop in a room just before reaching the apprentice quarters. I erect a barrier over the door we just came through. It takes far too much strength, my legs give out from under me and I fall to my knees.

"Wynne!" Petra yells, as she runs to my side. I smile up at her.

"I am alright child. I just need a moment to recover. I can't put up barriers like I used to." I give her a reassuring pat on the arm and smile. I look up at Greagoir. Who actually appears to be mildly concerned. "Go get help from the outside. We have things under control here. The barrier should hold for some time."

I know what outside help he will ask for. I would prefer he doesn't go for the annulment, but if that is what it takes to save the circle from abominations, so be it.

Greagoir knows better than to argue with me. He nods and orders his men to follow him into the foyer.

"Wynne. Do you realize what you just asked him to do?" Petra hisses in my ear.

"I do." I say, as I push myself up from the ground. With a little help from Petra, I am able to do so.

"He will have us all destroyed." She is understandably terrified. We all would be faced with certain death.

I look towards the door. There are several abominations scratching at the barrier. I hope that thing can hold long enough for us to formulate a more long term plan. I get the feeling that this is going to be a long night.

"Then we should probably pray that a better solution falls on our doorstep before Greagoir is forced to break the circle."

* * *

**Brecilian Forest**

**November 12th 2009**

**1:00pm**

**Lady of the Forest**

I stroke the top of Swiftrunner's furry head. His body begins to relax under my fingertips, before long he nestles himself next to my leg and falls into a light slumber. Today, he bit yet another Elven hunter sent by their keeper, Zathrian, who wants us dead.

Swiftrunner does not feel guilt for hurting the young hunter, nor do I expect him to. It is the nature of the beast. The wolf blood within him screams for more blood, hence my need to calm him. I want this bloodshed to end. It is a task that is easier said than done; there are stubborn minds on both sides which prevent peace.

It does anger me that simply cursing these innocent humans to a life of Lycanthropy is not enough to stop Zathrian's life-long vendetta against humankind and myself. He wants to kill us all. If he truly believes killing any of us will quench his need for vengeance, then he is a bigger fool than I ever believed him to be.

Zathrian believes that as the spirit of the forest, I could have done something to save his family. My job was to observe and bring life to the forest, not to interfere in the lives of the elves who choose to reside within my woods. After his daughter killed herself, Zathrian was beside himself with anguish and rage, taking his anger out on any humans who dared venture into this forest. Zathrian called to me. Since I was not a shy spirit I revealed myself. He screamed at me, accused me of murder, saying I am just as guilty of killing his family as the shems. I know grief leads some to irrational thought, which is why I did not contradict his accusations. Thinking back on it now, I believe I should have, but would pointing out his false logic really have changed things? I have my doubts. My silence only angered him more. Using blood magic, he bound me to this wolf's body for all eternity and gave me the name of Witherfang. Most of my powers were lost, but I still have a slight connection to the forest and I may shapeshift when I wish, but that is all I can do.

I started out as most of these wolves did. Angry. Alone. Vengeful. During two centuries it brought me joy to seek out Zathrian's elves, killing them slowly, making them suffer. About a century ago, that all changed. I became the leader of a pack. Some of these poor victims looked to me for guidance. Suddenly, I was not alone. I had a purpose and a reason to let my anger go. My wolves, on the other hand did not share in my epiphany. It is difficult changing the ways and minds of beasts. I thought it to be impossible, until Swiftrunner came along. Newly turned, he had somehow retained some of his mind. We were able to work together and teach the rest of the pack to speak. Not in full sentences mind you, but enough to get by. It is the first time I have ever felt that things could change within the curse. Swiftrunner's presence brought me hope, it still does.

This curse has gone on long enough. There have been far to much suffering and loss on both sides. This madness must end. I have already tried fear and violence. That accomplished nothing. Setting up peace talks never happened. I have sent several of my wolves in to speak with him. That ended tragically for my wolves and a few elves. I need to think of a non-conventional method. I need a unbiased outside source. Someone who can hear both sides and judge for themselves what the best course of action would be.

Swiftrunner stirs under my hand as he lies next to my leg. I stop rubbing his head.

"My lady. You are sad. Why?" He asks.

Unlike the other wolves, he is able to sense a change in my emotions. I find it interesting, almost touching.

"Worry not my Swiftrunner. I am dwelling in the past," I smile down at him. If only to set his mind at ease. The worry in his eyes tells me my words do not convince him of anything.

Suddenly, a shiver runs down my spine. Without warning, my body feels as if it is burning all over. Before I can stop myself, I drop to my knees. The room is spinning, I close my eyes in order to make it stop. I hear pain filled screams in my mind.

Swiftrunner is by my side.

"Is something wrong?" He asks, as he helps me to my feet.

My body language tells him that I am not. I sway slightly, but Swiftrunner places a paw on the small of my back and my shoulder to steady me.

Remember me saying I am still somewhat connected to the forest? This is how it communicates with me. It is in pain.

"Darkness." I say, although it is hard to form words over the screaming in my head.

"Darkness? What are you talking about?" He asks.

"The forest is in pain. Darkness has come once again."

"What do you mean? It's happened before?"

I nod. "Yes, but it was long ago. I never thought it would happen again this soon."

Swiftrunner looked as if he were trying to remember, but nothing came. I place a shaking reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Worry not, it was a blight that happened long before you were even born."

"Blight?" He cocked his head.

"We have more than just Zathrian to worry about. Now we have darkspawn as well. They are far more dangerous."

Swiftrunner puffs up his chest.

"I will protect you, Lady."

I smile as much as I can. "I know you will. Please, leave me for a moment. I need to gather my thoughts."

The concern in his face tells me he does not want to follow orders, but he begrudgingly does as I ask. I lean against a near by tree for support.

I realize there is a small shining light in this whole situation. With a blight comes darkspawn of course, but it also brings Grey Wardens. Perhaps they are the answer to both our problems. The wardens will eventually come through the forest. At least I hope they will need to. No blight was ever won without the gathering of all races. Since I am fairly certain Zathrian and his people are the only Dalish camp in Ferelden, they will come in search for elven aid.

I feel a sudden surge of hope through the nausea. Coming up with a plan to convince the wardens to our side will be easy enough. Waiting will be difficult. I close my eyes and smile.

"Please do not dally, wardens. My people; Zatarain's people, need you."


End file.
